Legacy
by candlelight435
Summary: A slightly altered storyline from Force Awakens. It drifts from the original in characterization and in plot. General Hux and Kylo Ren come across a shuttle containing a carbonite-frozen member of the Imperial household. And the Ghost of Anakin gets involved to save his grandson from purgatory. Some liberties were taken with the characters that are not found in the original format.
1. Chapter 1

Hands clasped perfunctorily behind his back, General Hux oversaw the archaeological find of a century. A true… first-hand glimpse into Imperial history. The seemingly insignificant and tattered shuttle before him—-that his men haphazardly snagged in their tractor beam and, through only curiosity, hauled aboard—had unknowingly been laden with imperial artifacts. Now spread across the hanger bay were its contents: the largest cache of imperial historical artifacts the universe had ever seen. All in mint condition. And still, his crew members continued to garnish more items from the shuttle's bowels. What general in a millennium could have imagined that one small ship held thousands of items belonging to the imperial family? An unbridled thrill rifled through Hux's veins. The unimaginable luck. It had been widely believed that after the emperor's demise, all of the family's personal possessions were destroyed by rebels. Not many heirlooms were rumored to have survived. Only the crumbling remains of battle cruisers littered planets as the last signs of the glory days past. And now? A triumph laid before him.

Despite his poignant glee, the general forced a stoic expression on his rather youthful face. He faithfully upheld a cursory masquerade. Another waft of decaying flesh affronted him. He twitched his nostrils. One couldn't avoid the gangrenous odor billowing out of the shuttle's bowels. The vessels pilot and co-pilot along with the security personnel had long since decayed into death, mummified by space. And the stench of their demise painted it's interior with the misfortune of a tomb, trapped in an airless bubble for decades.

Commander Rokens paced next to the younger general, elated. Nose covered with a scented cloth against the rank aroma, he puffed his rudy cheeks.

"What a record-breaking find!" He blathered behind his fabric barrier, "This is truly a momentous occasion for the First Order."

"Of course." Hux didn't need to reply to the subordinate. It was more out of distraction then conversation.

The general watched his troopers span the area to scan the artifacts with weapons detectors. A meticulous process. Service personnel followed after them, categorizing the checked crates. Some of them gagged from the profound stench of death effervescing out of the shuttle's hull. It was glorious.

Two engineers unfolded looms of woven silken fabric, then began dry heaving at the putrid smell wafting off it.

Hux scowled at the gagging engineers, his own nostrils still twitching. Weaklings. Determined, the young general strongly willed his olfactory system to obey. The smell of decay had already dwindled under the hanger bay's air filters. He understood men, gasping when they first pried open the shuttle's aft door. But after the ship's air purifiers kicked in, the two skinny engineers dry heaving in a corner like sissy girls was just too pathetic.

"Get back to work!" Captain Phasma barked at them from across the room. Her audio-filtered voice unforgiving and shrill, "You should've thought about your stomaches before you ate this morning."

And there the men went, vomiting at her feet. Apparently, their weak-stomachs weren't apt at taking orders. Chunks flew. And Captain Phasma just walked away, disdainful. "Clean that mess up!"

Commander Rokens made a disgusted face, covering his mouth with his handkerchief. "Blast, what are we feeding these boys?"

One stormtrooper, taking pity on the ill men, reached over to roughly pat them on the back. The men finally stopped emptying their stomachs and wiped their mouths with the backs of their gloved hands.

"Thanks," the thicker-necked engineer whimpered.

"Don't mention it." The trooper shrugged, clacking the white armor on his broad shoulders. Spotting something entangled on one of the men's boots, he tilted his helmet.

"What's this?" His audio-filtered voice blipped through his mike. The trooper plucked the clothing piece off the engineer's foot, to hold it up baffled. The delicate bra dangled from his gloved index finger, pink bows waving under the artificial air currents.

"Umm… sir?" The trooper's audio-filtered voice stammered. "I think I found something strange."

A few storm troopers huddled around it. "What is it?"

"Some sort of torture device?"

"With ribbons on it?" One of the trooper's snarked. "It's obviously a set of ear muffs." The shorter stormtrooper snatched from his comrade and put on his head, stretching the cups' fabric to where his ears were beneath his helmet. "See."

Rokens coughed into his fist, against a laugh. "Should we tell them?"

"Why should we?" Kylo Ren's gravelly audio-filtered voice erupted next to them, startling the old commander. "I think it's…" a hint of a cruel smirk lingered in his shadowy tone, "…humorous."

The man nearly jumped out of his skin, side-stepping out of the Dark Knight's way.

General Hux shifted his eyes to Kylo. The Knight of Ren had a habit of silently sneaking up on people. Black shadowed mask. Hateful demeanor. The man lived in stealth mode… like a viperous raptor, always poised to strike. People rarely heard him coming and if they did, they were either dead or about to be dead. That fact alone unnerved most. And judging on the Rokens's blatant skittishness, the commander was no exception to the rule.

"Do you always have to terrorize my staff?" Hux asked, not really caring for the answer.

Instead, the dark knight just ignored him, watching the huddle of white armor. "Look at the weak fools…it's almost laughable."

The stormtroopers stretched the bra, now determined it was a sling shot. One slipped a meal ration off his belt, inserting it into one of the bra's cups. They let it fly. In a dazzling arch of mash, the ration struck a small technician in the back of the head. Splat.

"Hey!" The supervising Lieutenant marched over to them. "That is an imperial bra." He snatched it from them. "Show some respect!"

They stared at him dumbfounded. "What's a bra?"

"This!" The squinty-eyed lieutenant held it up in an irritated fist. "Is a bra! So keep your hands off it!"

Kylo Ren snickered. "Diverting."

Hux's lips twitched at the soldiers blatant ignorance. "Appropriately integrated troopers have never even seen a woman outside of Captain Phasma, little lone one's…" he commented matter-of-factly, "…underwear."

"Who said Phasma is a woman?" Kylo quipped quickly.

The general bobbed his head, considering. "True." His auburn eyebrows lifted, "and thus my point is further made."

"Still laughable."

"Didn't know you had a sense of humor?"

"Layers," the dark knight said simply, "I'm all about layers." A second later, he burst into a corrupt laugh. "No, I really just enjoy mocking the vices and follies of the weak. Look at them, they are so stupid."

Hux just stared at him. "Hmm, I didn't know we had anything in common."

"Don't get used to it," Kylo returned to his usual cryptic edgy demeanor.

"General!" A voice echoed over the standard commlink. "I think we've found something!"

Hux's attention snapped to the shuttle. A stormtrooper poked his upper torso out of it, animatedly waving.

"We've found a body trapped in carbonite!" The trooper chattered on barely able to contain himself. "And it could be alive!"

Captain Phasma shoved aside a couple of crew members, throwing the men out of her way. She stomped up the ramp, clanking her large booted feet roughly against the metal. in clomping steps. "Move!" She barked at the troopers lining the ramp's edges.

"See…" Kylo observed, "Not a woman," he continued, "more like a brutish bantha."

"More like a soldier," Hux corrected.

He simmered down his irritation a couple notches. "There could possibly be a living member of the imperial household on that wreck and all you can comment on is Captain Phasma's lack of feminine propriety?"

"Feminine propriety?" Kylo retorted. "The beast most likely has more hair on her chest than a wookie."

He groaned. "I am not interested in discussing Captain Phasma's chest hair."

"Good." Kylo snipped, "as I am not interested in wasting time on old pottery and imperial placards."

Hux stiffened.

"Tell me, general," the knight sneered, "how many hours have you dedicated to this," his voice dripped contempt, "treasure hunt? When we are supposed to be hunting down a BB-8 unit and that Jakku girl."

"If this was Vader's shuttle," Hux countered, "you would think differently."

"It isn't," he straightened his gloves with a contemptuous snap of leather. "Need I remind you: The Supreme Leader wants Luke Skywalker, not artifacts. Thus, this whole historical detour is a waste of our time," he turned slowly to face the general warningly, "and the leader's."

Hux's upper lip twitched. History was never a 'waste of time.' It formed the basis for superior military strategy and political usurpation.

One of the stormtroopers strode out of the shuttle making an enthusiastic bee-line for the general. "Sir," He held out a small piece of embroidered satin cloth. "The imperial symbol!"

Eyes bulging, Hux snatched the handkerchief from the soldier. "No," he ran his fingers along the black and red threads admiringly, "the symbol for the princess. The only princess of the Palpatine and Skywalker families. Princess Apelainia Celestine Palpatine Skywalker."

Now Kylo's interested peaked. "A Skywalker?"

"Now, do you suppose this is a waste of time?" Hux closed his eyes, breathing in the fabric. Hints of perfume lingered under the putrid smell of the shuttle. "Here is a personal belonging of the genetically-engineered pure-blooded heir to the throne." He relished the sensation, "I used to savor pictures of her." He smoothed the putrid-smelling fabric against his mouth. "Her royal lips touched this napkin."

The other men gawked at him. Realizing the break in his emotional reserve, Hux swiftly pulled the handkerchief away. "She was the Emperor's only legitimate granddaughter."

"I never knew she existed." Commander Rokens gasped.

"Not very many did," Huh admitted, "Her birth was a secret. Lord Vader kept her hidden," he caressed the handkerchief with his thumb, "very few pictures of her existed. Very few evidences of her life were even archived." He stared longingly at the satin embroidery then glanced up at them finally. "I believe it was to protect her existence from the rebels."

"A Skywalker?" Kylo repeated, impatiently. "How was she a Skywalker? By marriage?"

"By birth." Hux slid the ornate cloth into his breast pocket, careful not to shiver at it's closeness to his heart. "She was his biological daughter."

"My aunt?" Kylo staggered slightly under the news. "I had an aunt?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Hux returned to his perfunctory manner, "She wasn't naturally born by any means though. Rather, a genetical experiment. The Emperor ordered the midichlorians…" he contorted his features, "…some sort of mythological force microbes he claimed permeated in Darth Vader's blood, were combined with the blood of his only legitimate daughter, the first imperial princess, Celestine Palpatine. It was an attempt to create a very powerful son… more powerful in the force than even Vader. Instead, the experiment somehow went wrong and Princess Celestine bore a girl instead."

"Was she strong in the force?" Kylo inquired urgently.

"No one knows…" Hux shook his head. "…She was hardly ever seen in public. Darth Vader kept her close under his shadow. Rumors say she was insane, others say that she was the apple of the Sith Lord's eye. Some say she was deformed. Others, a genetical mistake. I've seen the few pictures of her in existence… and believe me, the princess is far from deformed, she's glorious." He grinned, eyes flashing the madness he felt, "A perfect specimen of womanhood. A triumph of a superior race." He sucked in air dreamily, "A beautiful delicate creature with long hair and blue eyes that stare right through you. Her eyes were magnificent." He bit his knuckle. "The way they looked at you, they could see into your soul…" He in took his breath, smiling and lost in his infatuation.

Noticing their funny looks, he cleared his throat gruffly under their stares."Any artifact I have ever discovered regarding her, I have kept close… very close..." He steadied himself, "They are priceless heirlooms."

Rokens burst relieved. "So that's why you were playing with those bottles of girl's nailpolish. I have to admit sir, I was getting worried."

Hux sharply glared at him. "I told you never to talk about that."

"So, you're obsessed," Kylo said simply, "stalking her artifacts. And this is one giant princess playhouse."

Hux snapped, "At least I don't talk to her deathmask and complain that I don't own her lightsaber."

"But you do have pictures of her all over your office, sir," Rokens smiled.

The general was two seconds away from choking the tubby man. "Hold your tongue Commander or I will have it cut out."

The older man clamped his trap shut instantly then ventured, "Don't worry, sir, I won't tell anyone else about your shrine."

Vein pulsating in his temple, Hux closed his eyes.

Kylo regarded the general for a moment before simply saying, "Just kill him, if you feel that way."

Rokens tensed. Fear etched his swarthy features.

"No," Hux frowned, "then who'd run my flagship. I'm not wasting a seasoned commander on something this petty." Then his lips formed a dark smirk, "But I'm not past torture."

The elderly commander's eyes bugged. "Ummm, sir, I think I hear the helm calling me…" And with that the tubby man scurried out of there.

"General," Captain Phasma's gruff female voice nipped in his communicator. "You won't believe this. There is a woman frozen in carbonite her, and if these settings are correct, she's still alive."

Hux took a swift intake of breath. "Bring her out."

"Will do, sir." The connection ended sharply.

"Impossible," Kylo gasped, "I can feel a faint familial presence."

Four stormtroopers guided a large slab of carbonite down the old shuttle's ramp, headed by Captain Phasma. Hux's eyes darted through the troopers to linger on the carbonite. A perfect space tomb.

Locking their handle grips, the troopers escorted the hovering slab carefully. The features of a face could barely be made out on the block's surface. Like a slate sculpture relief. The rig's hover bindings hummed softly, taking into account the change in the artificial gravitation as the troopers transited off the ramp.

"To do that to a member of the imperial household?" Rokens was back. Apparently, the lure of the momentous occasion outweighed the commander's fear of his own death.

General Hux regarded him simply. "The Emperor had several illegitimate offspring and grandchildren. He killed them off periodically. Carbon-freezing one the only legitimate one was presumably nothing."

"Vader tested the process on my father. It's rather fruitless," Kylo shrugged. A slight apathetic movement of his shoulders that those that didn't have intimate knowledge of his character would have missed. Akin to saying, "meh." He continued, "hurts like the inferno. But the subject lives… unfortunately."

The knight of Ren was too emotionally aggressive to bother expressing common apathy about someone else's familicide. Nor did he have much compassion for his own father's disturbing experience.

Kylo shifted his weight to scratch his arm. "My grandfather had planned on freezing Luke, but ended up just turning my old man into a wall hanging in Jabba the Hut's palace." He snickered. "What a disappointment."

Hux glanced back at the slab. As the troopers brought the block closer he could make out the delicate features of an obviously beautiful woman frozen in a timeless peaceful expression. "Perhaps, Vader wanted to save this one."

He strained his neck to get a better look over the top of the slab, without bothering to move from his advantageous position. "It would be an interesting historical triumph if this was the princess."

Rokens stretched on the tips of his toes to glance over the taller Stormtroopers. The frozen cargo that appeared more like sculpture than the eternal-package of a human woman. "How could anyone survive that? Han Solo must have been a miracle."

"The carbonite process is quite simple really," Hux explained arrogantly, "It was originally used for freezing stored _tibanna_ gas in carbonite to preserve it while being transported over long distances."

He watched intently as the soldiers brought the princess closer, "the gas was pumped into a freezing chamber where it was mixed with molten carbonite into a solid block. Then it would be released later at its destination or at the processing center."

Kylo didn't bother to give him the satisfaction of a yawn, even though it would have been hidden behind his mask. "And hopefully, from it we can release a princess as well."

Hux's lips tugged against a death's head smile. "Yes. Hopefully."

 ******Please send in reviews. Thank you! Your thoughts are very appreciated.*******


	2. Chapter 2

******This is a short chapter. And if there are grammar errors, it's because I don't have time to edit it at this moment. And keep in mind my computer's autocorrect hates Hux's name. :) Anyway, here is chapter 2. Have fun. *******

"What do you mean: you can't unfreeze her, doctor?" Hux thundered, "It's been three weeks!"

Hardly moved by the younger man's outburst, Dr. Wintlock just continued his diagnostic on the princess. "I can always reverse the freezing process at anytime," he shifted his steely eyes to the general, "if you want her dead."

Thick frock of white hair, broad hefty shoulders, and a jagged scar drawing a pale line down the side of his olive-skinned face, Wintlock looked more like a retired drill sergeant than a medical provider. He was a seasoned physician from the days of the Empire. The man knew no fear.

Hux drew his head back, veins in his neck pulsating. He inhaled slowly through flared nostrils. "And how much more time, do you need?"

"The calculations are still incorrect," Wintlock tossed aside his datapad. "The relay systems aren't capable of handling the gas exchange. Her molecules need to vibrate at the exact frequency," deep consternating frown, "and the current cryoregeneration apparatuses vibrate at calibrations notches too high to maintain an adequate stabilization process. There are no buffers in existence that can account for the fluctuations in her vital signs."

The aged doctor circled the princess's frozen form. Motioning to the carbonite block's side control panel, he frowned. "The re-animation circuits are fried. The internal life support diagnostic markers are all over the place. Her suspended animation is, in a way permanently suspended."

"Permanently?" Hux seethed. He closed the distance between them in one angry stride, "how permanently, doctor?"

Wintlock met his cold stare. "That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether we can acquire the equipment to regulate her thawing process."

"Then acquire it," Hux turned his attention to the princess's stone face, "no matter the cost. She's invaluable to our cause."

"It's not a matter of cost," Dr. Wintlock corrected, "it's a matter of acquisition. This is archaic technology that we have to adapt. You ever stick a film strip into a disposition jack? Doesn't work. And she's," he flitted his eyes to the princess, "one big film strip."

Hux's lip twitched.

The doctor circled back to his work station, ignoring the cleaning crew moping at his feet. "It's a miracle that she's even alive."

"Alive?" Hux scoffed, throwing his palm up at the carbonate slab, "She's a frozen piece of art!"

He gazed back at the princess. A somber figure in stone. Hands clasped at her chest, she appeared as if she was sleeping. A small peaceful smile upturned the corners of her mouth. He found himself wondering what she was thinking at the moment of her encasement. What produced that mysterious smile?

The doctor scratched his scar with a holo-pointer, considering the enclosure. "An imperial princess suspended animation. Nothing changing from the moment she was encased in the carbonite gas. An unfading imperial beauty," he smiled humored, "I suppose that would technically make her a collector's item."

Wintlock studied her delicate face, "Pretty girl. Worst case scenario, you could always hang her on your wall."

Huh went to rebuke him.

A pudgy medical technician walked in between them head down. Hux's eyes followed him. He brushed past the princess a little too close. The man's fingers lingered on the carbonite as he traced by. Hux's eyes narrowed into slits.

Suddenly, the overhead lights flickered on and off. Electrical systems sparked. Medical officers jumped startled. Enlisted staff bolted for the medical bay's rerouters. Nervous fear ensued. A panel of beakers crashed down towards the tubby technician. He shrieked jumping backwards.

Men started making signs on themselves, praying fervently against evil.

"What is this?" Hux demanded.

"Ghosts," Dr. Wintlock answered, unperturbed by the ruckus, "They are signing themselves ...against ghosts."

Hux's expression went flat. "Ghosts?"

"Yes, mischievous spirits of the dead or undead that come to torment the living," Dr. Wintlock smirked, his nasal accent emphasizing his candor. "Apparently, my staff believe the corpses you brought on this ship are haunting us."

The controls sparked and beakers bobbled on counters.

Hux scoffed. "Superstitious fools. There are no such things as ghosts." He darted his eyes to the ceiling as the lights flickered on and off, "This is most likely just another Kylo Ren tantrum." He returned his attention to the doctor, "He lost the Jakku girl and is most likely taking it out on some unsuspecting piece of machinery, again."

"Don't believe in ghosts, General?" Wintlock inquired, "Studies have shown that in some cases, though rare, the dead have attempted communicating with the living." The corner of his mouth turned up, stretching the scar on his cheek. "Rumors are spreading that Darth Vader's ghost isn't happy that the men have turned his daughter into a tourist attraction."

"What?" Hux asked, incredulous.

"Carbonite princess selfies," Dr. Wintlock's left eyelid twitched in an involuntary muscle spasm.

He snatched a data pad out of the rotund medical technician's hands. The bewildered guy grasped at the air, red face instantly pale. and tossed it to Hux. The freckled man dove after it in vain.

The General flipped it on. To the pudgy tech's dismay, the incriminating stream of pictures appeared.

A large group of crew members poised around her, making peace signs and crazy faces.

Switched to an image of two troopers flanking her while making muscle arms.

A third pic: Computers specialists duck-facing with the sleeping princess.

Next: An uncomfortable lieutenant stood beside her, wearing a dress and a sign around his neck, saying "Lost a bet."

Another one: A kegger party with the princess as the centerpiece.

Infuriated, Hux flipped through the images. Anger building.

Last two pics: The pudgy tech, shirtless, and leg wrapped around the princess's form, kissing her cheek. Then came a shot of him in flowered boxer shorts, tongue out, and—

The general eyes widened. He snapped the data pad in half. The data pad's innards sparked in protest as he glared at the cowering tech, hate surging. "Well… what interesting time you men have on their hands," he growled through gritted teeth.

The medical tech laughed nervously. "It was just a prank, sir." He slowly backed away.

The general stalked towards him, the flickering lights and electrical sparks casting eery shadows on his malignant face. "Of course it was."

"I won't do it again." His beady eyes bulged.

"Of course you won't," Hux smiled icily, shoving the remnants of the data pad into the man's sausage-fingered hands.

Maniacal rage reflected in the general's eyes.

Screaming like a twelve-year-old little girl, the tech threw the pieces in the air and bolted out of there like lightning.

"What happened in here?" Kylo Ren inspected the sick bay's electrical outages. "Someone forget to upgrade the medical wing again?" He was far from angry.

Dr. Wintlock commented on the dark knight's calm demeanor as the man surveyed the damage at the bay's entrance, "Certainly, we may rule out supernatural forces when it is apparent that the dark side among us," he stressed sarcastically, "is obviously in a hateful mood."

"Kylo," Hux called simply.

The Knight of Ren weaved his way through the chaos. Crew members scurried out of the site's way, giving him a wide girth. "What?"

"See that man…" Hux nodded at the sausage-link of a med tech.

"How could I not?" Kylo scoffed. "A blind Jar Jar Binks could see him."

Hux clasped his hands behind his back and whispered close to the knight's helmet. "He said he did your mother and filmed it for the crew to watch."

Kylo Ren stiffened sharply.

And with that, the lightsaber was out.

General Hux beamed satisfied as the man's cries echoed throughout Sick Bay.

"Mommy!" The Tech shrieked as he went flying across the room. Curled into a ball, he bawled like a big baby as the Sith kicked the fodder out of him.

Hux nonchalantly turned to Dr. Wintlock, "So you were saying, how long it will take to unfreeze the princess?"

The seasoned doctor shrugged, apathetically ignoring the screams and lightsaber slashing. "Eh, let's shoot for a month or two."

"Well…" Hux checked his fingernails for dirt.

The tech floated in the air behind him, gurgling and grasping at this neck.

"Doctor, you are the top cryogenics specialist in the First Order," Hux considered, "I believe you're capable of handling things from here. Forward a list of the items you'll need to my station and you will have your month."

A flash of lightsaber ended the strangulation. A small thump sounded behind the general followed by a louder sickening thud. The lights in the sick bay turned back on and everything returned to normal, except the sudden stench of burning flesh.

Something tapped against the general's boot. He glanced down. The tech's severed head laid at his feet. "No, he definitely will not be doing it again." He kicked the cranium away.

Shutting off his lightsaber, Kylo holstered its handle. He stalked over to them, growling, "Any more news about my mother?"

"Nope." The rest of the medical crew bolted out of there.

Dr. Wintlock watched his staff practically trample each other to get away. "So," he fixed his attention back on the general, "One month it is." He strode away, barking orders to the cleaning crew hovering behind vitals monitors, "Everyone get in here and clean up this mess! You're mothers don't work here!"


	3. Chapter 3

Hux ran his fingers over the princess's stone face. The carbonite bit at his fingertips, rough and frigid. She had a delicate oval face, with full lips and perfect nose. Not a bump. Not blemish. "Oh, to see your eyes looking at me. We will create a new empire together." He leaned down to kiss her frozen lips. "Our dreams and lives will become one."

"Still obsessed with a block of carbonite?" Kylo's gravely voice taunted behind him.

The general fidgeted startled, quickly regathering himself. "Still obsessed with a deathmask?" He pulled away from the carbonite, scowling. "Don't you know to knock?"

"Don't you know how to have a relationship with a real woman?"

"These are my quarters and she is a real woman," Hux snapped. He turned back to her admiringly, "Real… and perfect. Not a single flaw."

"She's a chunk of ice," Kylo said flatly.

"She's a person," Hux countered firmly then let his lips curl into a cruel smile, "With impressive lineage and," he stressed, "first in line for the imperial throne."

"And I'm sure she's a great listener."

Hux grinned. "But of course she is." He turned back to the princess to stroke her frozen cheek, "She's court-trained princess. Elegant. Demure. Soft-spoken—"

"Frozen."

"She's the last living imperial." Hux drew his fingers along her lips. "A living relic of a powerful era."

"Would you stop molesting my aunt." Kylo bristled. "It's.…disturbing."

"I thought you had a thing for the macabre," Hux retorted with a jaunting smile.

"There's a difference between calling on the dead for guidance and," he swallowed his distaste, "making out with them."

"She's not dead," he grumbled not particularly willing to let go of her, "She's sleeping."

"As someone who is your friend—"

Hux laughed. "You know, you don't consider us 'friends," he emphasized, "even in the remotest sense of the word."

"True," Kylo admitted, then corrected himself, "I consider you scum, but as someone who doesn't want to kill you every time he sees you…"

Hux nodded a couple times. That he could accept. "Go on."

"…You've really got to stop the frozen-fettish. Just let it go." He leaned against the wall, thumb lingering on his lightsaber, "Seriously. Let… it…go. It's creepy. The troops are talking."

"And this is coming from someone who makes love to his grandfather's mask?"

Kylo groaned, the audio-filtration adding a harsher edge. "There is a difference!" He threw out his hand, "you are making moves on a statue!"

"Who is a real living imperial princess that will be re-animated within the month," Hux explained slowly then snipped, "I can't say the same for your grandfather."

"And these are the responses of an objectophile?" Kylo threw up his hands, "You just had me kill some pudgy guy because he was doing the exact same thing."

"That degenerate was…" Hux spat his disgust, "vulgar. Unworthy of her."

"You, general," Kylo jabbed his finger at him, "are a hypocrite."

Hux paused, "Wait, how'd you know about that officer's previous actions?" He blinked incredulously, "I told you he was talking about your mother."

"The force," Kylo stated as if he found the village idiot, "Besides I saw his pics go viral over Order Net." He shrugged, "I was already on my way there to kill the guy, you just gave me a better reason."

If Hux didn't know better, he would think that the scruffy Dark Knight was actually smiling behind his mask.

Kylo pushed away from the wall, stalking towards him, "But now, general, I'm two parsecs away from severing your head from your shoulders for the exact same thing," ignited his lightsaber, "And then what would I say to the Supreme Leader? Oops, my saber slipped?"

The general shifted his eyes to the glowing saber, irritated. "You've been looking for an excuse all week, haven't you?"

Kylo dragged the tip of his red saber along the metal floor sparking it, "It's simple really. Hands off my aunt, Hux, because I'd really hate to have to explain your demise to Snoke."

With an exasperated sigh, he stepped away from the princess. "Fine."

He clasped his hands behind his back and padded over towards his couch. "I never would have taken you for the chivalrous type."

"Chivalry is dead." Kylo put away his saber. "I have a family honor to uphold. I will always protect Skywalker women," he tipped his head as if to make a slight exception to his rule, "Unless they stand in my way towards the darkside, of course. Then they will have to die."

"And the men?" Hux smirked, as he poured himself a drink. This should be interesting, since Snoke had just barely commanded the young apprentice to kill his own father.

"If they can't protect themselves," Kylo said icily, letting his frigid words hang in the air.

The knight of Ren made his way over to a chair.

Swiping the edges of his cape aside, he sat down, draping the cape over the chair's edge, before answering through clenched teeth, "Then they deserve to die. I won't tolerate weakness. Some men… in my family," he continued haltingly, "are great disappointments."

"That's rather double standard for someone raised by the esteemed resistance General Leia Organa Solo." Hux goaded him.

The Dark Knight didn't even flinch. "My mother is strong in the force."

"And your father is a worthless smuggler." Hux raised his glass. "To the blind love of women."

"Careful, general."

"Defending your father now?" Hux cocked an eyebrow. "After Snoke's request?"

"I'm not defending him," Kylo snapped, "I'm defending my mother, whom he up and walked out on."

"To scumbags," Hux raised his cup again. "May their heads ever be separated from their shoulders." He threw the drink back in one gulp.

Making a curdled face against the intense burn in his throat, he grabbed the Mandalorian Whiskey bottle, "Care for a glass?"

Kylo just stared at him. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? Alcohol dims the force."

"A thousand times," the general threw another one back, "because I really don't care."

He swished the burning booze in his mouth a moment before swallowing, "You do realize that the princess technically isn't your aunt?"

That caught the knight's attention.

"She's 99.989 percent Palpatine. The only Skywalker that was in her was in the form of Lord Vader's midichlorians."

"Didn't know you could extract midichlorians from blood without the person's," Kylo enunciated strongly, "D-N-A."

"I read the experiment reports," Hux poured himself another tumbler full, "apparently, you can." He swirled the brandy colored liquid. "The Emperor wanted a pure Palpatine offspring. Granted, he wanted a son and you can't technically make a son without a Y chromosome, but since Vader was the willing paternal candidate, they used his midichlorians and injected them into the Princess Celestine. And she got pregnant. Interesting…" he considered carefully, "they were trying to recreate your grandfather's birth process and failed."

Kylo shifted his attention to his aunt's peaceful form. "I wouldn't call it a complete failure."

"No," Hux observed the princess over his glass. "Nor would I."

"How can you sleep at night with her staring at you?" Kylo shuddered. "It's creepy."

The general leaned forward madness gleaming in his eyes. "I want her to watch me. I want her to see the First Order taking over the universe." He grinned, "I wish she could witness first hand, the magnificent destructive power of my Starkiller base."

He gripped his cup tightly, "When she opens her eyes and sees my glory, my power, she will know that the Empire has never died. That the whole universe will bow to our will. And she will witness as we destroy the Republic with all its tainted lies!" The cup cracked under the pressure of his fist, but he slowly relaxed with a smile. "My imperial princess will look at me with her perfect eyes, and see a god among men."

Kylo snorted, covering a profound snicker.

Hux slit his eyes at him. "Do you want to say something?"  
"No," the knight waved laughingly, "go on. Please go on about how my frozen aunt is going see you as a god."

"She's more a Palpatine than she'll ever be a Skywalker," the general rebutted.

"So, you're saying she's not my aunt?" Kylo asked as if trying to get Hux's twisted intentions straight.

The general froze. "No, I want you to consider her, your aunt."

"First she's not my aunt, only a Palpatine princess and not a Skywalker. And yet now, you want me to consider her as my aunt?" Kylo questioned.

"Don't get any ideas about her."

"Ideas?" The dark knight gasped horrified, "She's a frozen statue."

"She's gorgeous!" Hux shot out of his seat. "A perfect specimen of womanhood! Flawless and powerful! The heir to the throne," he pointed his cup at the knight, thoughts spilling out of him without filter, "I wonder if you've even considered the fact that the man whom marries her will sit on the imperial throne as the new emperor. Even Snoke can't deny that fact. You Kylo Ren can consider her your aunt, if that keeps you and any other man from looking at her."

A frenzied fervor lit his eyes. "When I marry her…" His obsession softened his expression as he stared at the princess, "marry this perfect princess, and become Emperor, the entire universe will bow to me, just like my father had envisioned for me since my infancy."

After all those words tumbled out of his mouth, he realized his own folly.

"You!" He spun on Kylo, "You've been playing your old mind tricks on me."

"No, these are all new mind tricks." Kylo laughed cruelly, "I admit, general, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever crack." He leaned forward, "for a non-force user, you have considerable resistance. But apparently, all it takes is for one pretty frozen face and your reserve crumbles like… ice."

"I should kill you." Hux took a shaky sip, slightly unnerved at revealing his inner thoughts to such a man.

Regaining his bearings, he sat back down stoic and calm. "You do that ever again, and I will kill you."

Kylo's voice more than hinted of a smile, "I'd like to see you try."

Hux stared at the young man's mask for a long moment then snickered. "It doesn't matter. When she opens her eyes for the first time and sees me there waiting earnestly for her. She will know that we are meant to be together, and your mind games will be of no consequence."

He smiled a diabolical smile. "She will see my glory and triumph. And through her eyes, so will the rest of the universe."

Kylo paused for a long moment then finally said, "You do realize that carbonite hibernation sickness causes blindness."

"Temporarily." Hux waved his hand, dismissively.

"After thirty years of being a human-cicle?" Kylo instigated cruelly, "One would only hope."

Hux slammed his cup down, frustrated. "And why again did you come to see me?"

"No reason," Kylo's voice hinted of a smirk as he got up to leave, "I just wanted to see you squirm when I called you out on your perverted hobby."

"I despise you."

"Thank you," Kylo headed for the door, "the feeling is mutual." He paused to glance back at him, "You should probably add the part about the Republics tainted lies to your speech this afternoon. It was…" a tinge of mockery behind the mask, "riveting."

His laughter echoed after the automatic door hissed closed behind him.

Hux threw his tumbler at the door. The glass shattered. Hooch drizzled down the metal as he calmed his angry breathing and drained the furious red from his features.

He stopped with a sudden change of thought. Rubbing his chin, he muttered to himself, "Huh. The prick's right. That really was a pretty good line."

 ********Please submit reviews. I would love to hear what you have to say. Thank you so much! Oh, and please keep in mind, I have made changes to the original characters, some in appearance and others in personality characteristics. So I'm not trying to stick to the original format. I really do appreciate your thoughts, so please send them in and let me hear them. Thank you tons!*******


	4. Chapter 4

*******This is a rough draft, with little time to edit it. So please excuse the grammatical errors. It's a rather vapid scene, but I like parodies. Anyway, Enjoy and please remember to write a review. Thank you!******

" _Wake up…_ " Anakin's spirit whispered along the ether. " _Apple, wake up_."

" _Father..?_ " The princess's mind called back. " _But I'm so tired_."

"Yes," Anakin appeared next to her carbonite enclosure, "but you've slept long enough."

Emergency evacuation sirens rang over head. Lights flashed. The ex-sith ignored the mortal warnings and waved his hand along the slab's control panel.

"They just had to fry the initiation sequence," he rolled his eyes, "And this is exactly why, engineers are useless."

The Carbonite enclosure wobbled in place before lifting off its frame. "Come on, Apple… help me out here. You've got to want to wake up." The spirit wrapped the carbonite in thick wave of electromagnetic activity. The vitals on the side panel fluctuated wildly.

"So now is the first time you have to be stubborn? Listen to my voice and wake up," Anakin strained, reaching out stronger with his mind. Her vitals began to stabilize. "That's better."

The base's emergency broadcast pounded louder, rocking the framed images hovering on the walls. A wall panel fell off exposing a secret compartment shrine.

Anakin paused, the holy show for the first time. "What in the force is that?" His face contorted at the princess shrine before him. Pictures of her face, a life-sized mannequin of her wearing a wedding dress, a couple of candles and flowers.

Anakin telekinetically picked up one of the notes attached to the wall and read it, "'I love you, princess. You are my destiny,'" His features contorted even further in disbelief, "'Would you bear my children?' What is this Banta fodder?"

Crushing the note, Anakin turned back to his mission at hand. He reached out to the enclosure and turned his fingers, unlocking it. The sirens shrieked louder, interrupting his concentration.

"Oh come on!" He shouted at the ceiling. "Can a ghost get a break?! No, that is not at all distracting!" He threw up his arm.

The warning system within the general's quarters exploded, shutting down. Only the sirens from outside the doors could be heard. The Starkiller was about to be destroyed and the blasted PA system was wreaking havoc on his grip on the force. The vibrations disrupted the midichlorians in the air, rippling them in sonic waves that only the dead could see, while the living rushed around outside in a panic.

Anakin returned his attention to the carbonite. Reaching out with the edges of his spirit, he gripped the block's re-animation controls and regulated them with precise accuracy better than even the most sophisticated machinery.

A bright light erupted within the carbonite, burning outward from the princess's body. First her mouth and nose were visible along with her hands and chest. She gasped her first breath in over thirty years.

In a flood of light, her entire form returned to normal human flesh. Shivering, she fell out of the block. Anakin reached out to catch his daughter, but forgot that he was immaterial. She fell right through his glowing arms to smack into the metal floor.

"Oww!" She shivered.

He grimaced. "I probably should have grabbed you with the force."

The princess curled up into a drenched ball, shivering. "Yesss."

An immense pain erupted off her. The sensation wafted on the spiritual currents within the room. Any spirit could easily tell that every fiber of her muscles was in complete agony, especially one with his power in the force. He scowled sympathetically. The freezing sensation tore at her aura like a vice.

"I-I'm s-so c-cold." She trembled violently under the piercing cold. It burned fire under her skin. A shivering wet mess. "And-d ev-verything is-s d-dark-k."

He reached down and touched her shoulder, concentrating. A warmth poured from his fingers out into her. "Center your mind on the warmth of your core."

He watched the golden light spread out through her form, intermingling with her spirit. Mortal eyes would never be able to see such a sight.

Her shivering slowed to a manageable stop. She lifted her torso up, feeling around herself. "Why can't I see anything?!" Finding a chair, she pulled herself up to stand, leaning weakly against the wall.

"It's the hibernation sickness from the carbonite freezing." Her father shrugged, sympathetically, "You're blind temporarily…"

A blue light figure among the blackness. He stood staring at her, concern etched on his young mask-less face. "Well… it's supposed to be temporary… theoretically."

She choked back a crying laugh. "Blind? But father, I can see you?… Only you." She stopped, backpedaling as her mind reeled around the entire event. "How did you get so young?! And your breathing mask?! Where is your mask? You could die."

Another shrug. "I'm already dead."

"You're…" her teeth chattered painfully, some of the cold returning as she gasped, "…dead?!" She nearly collapsed under the weight of the horrific realization. Her lips trembled, bloodshot eyes watering.

"For sometime now," her father simply replied, seemingly unperturbed in the slightest, "It's been over thirty years."

"Thirty years!" She dropped to her knees, shaking. "Don't tell me I'm old!"

"I just released you from a carbonite prison and that's all you're concerned about?" He looked only half-astounded.

"When you become a woman an empire of men," she pouted, "then you can tell me that you wouldn't be concerned to."

"You were in suspended animation for thirty years," he explained. "The Empire is dead and you haven't even aged a moment."

"Ahh…" She grinned. "Really, daddy?"

"Really," he smiled.

The emergency sirens echoed with a sudden intensity.

His smile dropped into a line of trepidation. "Now, time to go sweetheart!"

"How am I supposed to do anything?" She blindly patted the floor then pointed to her eyes, "When I can't see?" She dropped her hand like it was a wet towel, "And I feel like every muscle in my body has shut down."

"Use the force," he said simply. "Reach out with your mind. And for the force's sake, get control of your body. You don't have time to rest."

Then he hiked his thumb back over his shoulder at the door. "And there is a base full of weak-minded men that you could use to guide you."

"What's that shrieking sound?" She struggled to her feet, reaching her hands and the force outward for possible objects. "Please don't tell me it's the self-destruct sequence."

"No."

"Good." She composed herself, wiping her wet hair away from her face. Steadying herself, she padded towards him. "Phew. I was worried this place was going to explode."

"It is." He headed for the door, glancing back at her. "That's the bomb detection signal."

"What?!"

"Apple…" He took a paternal tone, "It's not like you haven't gone through this several times before." He smiled. "You're a pro at escaping exploding bases."

She made a considering face. "Hey, those other times, I could see." Starting to shiver again, she herself. "And I wasn't wet and freezing, and so weak that I can barely stand."

He put a hand on her shoulder. In an instant the shivering and teeth chattering subsided.

"Thank you." She sighed. "Can you do something about my eyes too?"

"I'm not a miracle worker."

"Well, it was worth a shot." She sighed.

Lights flashing and screeching metal collapsing. The base was a disaster. Anakin surveyed the area, as he led his daughter through the hall. The building convulsed.

"There." He pointed at a tall stormtrooper, retreating towards a byway. "Call out to that stormtrooper. He appears to be really weak-minded."

The trooper accidentally ran his helmet into a low lying beam. Thwack!

"Or rather really slow-minded." Anakin grimaced.

Apple braced herself against the wall, breathing shallowly. "Soldier!"

The stormtrooper stopped mid-run, boots sliding against the steel floor. He snapped his head around to see her and only her.

Anakin could sense the man's emotions at seeing his daughter for the first time. The ex-sith's expression shadowed.

The princess leaned against the wall, drenched in wet silk. Her knee length wet blonde hair clung to her waist and legs. Her delicate face stared blindly at him with large aqua colored eyes. There was a reason that she was a genetical achievement of sorts. She was a breathtaking sight for any man. Little one that had been raised only among men since his birth.

"Help," she managed weakly before sliding down the wall.

He scampered over to her. Anakin followed him, whispering harshly in his ear. "Get any ideas about my daughter and you'll regret it. Now pick her up."

The stormtrooper scooped up her small frame in his arms.

"Tell him to take you to Kylo Ren," Anakin told her.

"Kylo Ren?" She questioned.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And hurry," Anakin added.

"Yes, ma'am," the trooper replied.

With her in his arms, the soldier darted for the exit.

"I am not a 'ma'am,'" Anakin grumbled after him.

The Starkiller base convulsed as its metal shrilled, fracturing to pieces. Flames scorched electrical panels. Sparks flew. Smoke billowed into abandoned hallways. The entire planetoid attempted to itself apart, the base was only seeing its effects firsthand.

"Kylo is your nephew," Anakin hurriedly explained as the stormtrooper carried Apple towards the engineering section. "Apparently, he did something that upset a girl. I am not privy to exactly what happened, he probably called her fat."

Apple gasped.

"But she is beating the living tar out of him and he is about to die," Anakin was not in the least proud of telling that, "so I need you to save him."

"I didn't know Luke had a son," Apple gripped the trooper's neck, trembling.

"Luke who?" The stormtrooper asked, through heavy breaths.

It was true the man couldn't hear her father like she could, and even then, he didn't recognize the promptings from the ghost as anything more than suggestions made by her or by his own thoughts.

"Luke Skywalker," she answered, turning her head sheepishly to her father.

"That hermit?" The trooper dodged a falling beam. "You should ask his nephew, Lord Kylo Ren, if you want to know those details. But ma'am, I wouldn't recommend it. He's not…"

He spun, barely dodging a falling wall panel. Electricity sparked in all directions, buzzing against her skin.

"…a particularly conversational guy." The trooper finished in one labored breath.

"He's not Luke's son…" Anakin explained. "He's Leia's, your sister's."

"I have a sister!" Apple burst.

The ex-sith even with his strength in the force couldn't tell whether she was excited or angry.

"A sister?" The trooper coughed, "You're not trying to set me up with your ugly sister are you? I've heard about girls doing that to guys…" he grumbled then finished completely unsure of himself, "in romance novels."

Apple just turned her blind eyes to him. "Uhhh, she's married."

"That's kinky." He managed between labored breaths.

A flood of cold air barreled through the thick layer of scorching heat suffocating them inside the base.

"We're almost outside." The trooper made it to the exit. He put the princess down in her feet to breath heavily. "He went somewhere out there."

The soldier doubled over to catch his breath, leaning against a broken metal railing, ripping off his helmet. A furnace of heat burned beneath them from several hundred feet below their perch on the grated stairs. Frigid winter air poured through the open door, churning the temperature between the ice age and the bowels of a volcano.

Apple staggered towards the exit. The sounds of lightsabers clashing echoed in the distance.

The princess shuffled her bare feet towards the forest, reaching her hands out blindly before her. Cold wind buffeted her. "Eeep!" She squinted her eyes and turned her head.

Once her first bare foot touched the snow, she screamed, jumping backwards into the soldier. He stumbled backwards into the broken railing. Snap! The railing gave way.

The man screamed, plummeting to his death. Anakin threw out his hand, snagging his daughter before she plunged after the unfortunate trooper.

Anakin flung her forward into the snow.

"Be careful! Do you want to die?!" Anakin echoed in the air around her. "Hurry!"

Spitting out snow, she cried. "Oh by the force! By the force," chattered horrified, "I killed him! I just killed the really slow-minded man that saved me!"

"You're not saved yet." Anakin countered then smiled sheepishly, "And maybe, he didn't actually die."

The man's ghost appeared next to them visibly upset.

Anakin grimaced. "Apparently, he did."

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized, ready to cry. "I didn't see you behind me."

The soldier glared, curling his features into one major stink face.

Anakin groaned, exasperated. "Oh stick a saber in it. You were already scheduled to die today when the base exploded."

The rusty haired soldier twisted his eyebrows into a worse glower.

"Those 15 minutes were not that precious," Anakin snapped at him, "Just, go play a harp on some cloud!"

With that, the other ghost disappeared.

Apple's bottom lip trembled. Tears down her cheeks, she mumbled, "I killed that poor man."

"Don't worry about him." Anakin dismissively waved. "He's in a better place. Now, hurry. You've got to concentrate on saving your nephew."

"I know. I know." She trudged on, achingly then stopped. "Why is it so important if everyone that dies goes to a 'better place'?"

"If my grandson dies today…" Anakin stared at her penetratingly, "then he will go to hell."

"Hell?" She repeated, measuring the word. "Tatooine?" He always complained that Tatooine was a 'living hell.'

Anakin blinked flatly. "Yeesss," he shifted his eyes side to side, not bothering to correct her, "That's exactly where he'll go."

She shuddered. "Ewe." That motivated her. She quickened her pace.

Reaching out her hands, she gingerly stumbled forward. At least she was walking upright. That was an improvement. The frozen forest spanned out before her, dark and ominous. Only random volcanic eruptions broke the black stillness.

"Now you've really must use the force as your eyes," Anakin told her, "and watch out for that—"

She stepped out, finding no footing. Down she went, tumbling into a snowy gulley. Trees raced past her as she pitched down the hill.

"Gulley," he finished with a frown.

Anakin watched her topple over and over, spraying chunks of snow into the air. "Well, that's not particularly good."

After several feet, she slid to a stop in the freezing snow at the bottom. "Owww…"

The ex-sith rubbed his temples, more out of habit then necessity, "They're both going to die. They are both going to die. Here on this useless fake rock." He shook his head and paced a few steps, "There are no means possible that this is going to work."

"Not necessarily," Another man's voice echoed in the ether.

Anakin glanced up as Obi Wan appeared next to him. He opened his hand towards his daughter, sprawled in the snow. "She's blind, suffering from hibernation sickness, and hasn't yet tapped into the depths of the force."

"What do you expect?"

"She's my daughter." Anakin snarked, grinding his teeth. "I would have adapted instantly."

"Yes," Obi Wan said flatly, "You were the chosen one. Perfectly adept at everything. Even your flatulence didn't stink."

Anakin puffed up, impatient. "I knew everything that was going on around myself at all times." He paced a few more steps. "My children apparently, are lacking in that skill."

Obi Wan stared at him still not impressed.

"I could do this," Anakin blustered on, "blind and infirmed and," he emphasized, "crippled. I still could easily do this."

"Then why don't you?" Obi Wan countered simply.

Anakin jerked his head back, horrified. "She's my daughter, daughter as in: A girl."

Obi Wan just stared at him. "Your point?"

"She's a girl," Anakin leaned forward, enunciating carefully.

Obi wan's lip twitched.

The ex-Sith swallowed his distaste then went for a more practical yet whining approach, "It's against the rules."

"Really?" The older ghost shrugged nonchalant, "Only from a certain point of view.

"From a certain point of view? You told my son," Anakin emphasized, "that I killed myself, from a certain point of view."

The old Jedi didn't seem too phased about the accusation. "I'm not following."

Anakin groaned, throwing his head back. "It was a bold-faced lie, Jedi. You told a bold-faced lie to my son, about me!"

"When were you concerned about right and wrong, Darth?"

A tight line pierced the ex-Sith's mouth. "She… is…" he pronounced slowly, "my daughter!"

"And he's my namesake."

"His name is Ben…" Anakin reminded the Jedi, "Ben. Not Obi Wan. Not Kenobi. Not Jedi Prick. His name is Ben."

"And Ben's going to die, if you don't do something." The older Jedi added, "They both will. She may go to paradise, but he has a one-way space jump to hell. And then where will you be? Still wingless."

Anakin took an unnecessary intake of breath. A habit still left over from when he was alive. "I hate you."

Obi Wan simply smiled, "I know."

Taking a running step, Anakin dove into his daughter's body. With a howl, the girl whipped to her feet.

Force jumping out of the gulley, Anakin forced her body to sprint through the forest, dodging through the trees at a remarkable speed. "I can't believe I am doing this," Anakin said with his daughter's voice. "There are some serious mood swings in here."

Spotting his grandson battling, he slowed the young princess's legs down. In a lurch, he jumped out of her body, shuddering. "Horrible. Beyond horrible!" He staggered, spiritual energy spent.

Obi Wan appeared next to him with twisted smirk. "Ah now, it wasn't that bad?"

Anakin gasped mortified, collapsing to crawl on the snow. "There are some things in the universe that a man should never have to do." His face contorted in horror. "It was all mood swings and cramps." He whined, "And I started craving Cornellian chocolate, Obi Wan! Corellian chocolate! And a bubble bath. And something called a mani-pedi!"

He shuddered, scarred for other-worldly life, "Eternity is not long enough to purge this! Not long enough!" He enunciated then shuddered, "There are worse things than death. And being in the body of a teenage girl is definitely one of them!"

He glanced up at his old mentor, torn between crying and begging for purgatory, "I wanted to go to a shoe sale!"

Obi Wan patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Some people have traumatic memories of the electrocution rack like Ben's father Han, you have nightmares of shoe sales. Each goes through their own perdition."

"I'd rather the rack."

"I'll get you one."

"That was the nastiest experience of my after-life."

"I'm right here," she grumbled, "I can hear everything you two are saying," she attempted to regain her bearings. "And do you think, I particularly enjoy being possessed by my father? And I'm not full of mood swings!"

"Yes, sweetie, you're not full of mood swings," Anakin told her then made a 'yes, she is' face to Obi Wan.

He turned back to his daughter, "And you're such a pretty girl," he flashed her a sheepish patronizing grin. "You'll never get fat. And don't worry, your chest will get bigger when you get older."

"Thanks," she replied dryly.

Obi Wan looked up. "We're being called back."

Anakin said urgently, "Promise me Apple, you'll save him."

Time allowance spent, the two spirits disappeared into vapor, returning to the otherside.

"Father!" She called out.

His voice echoed from the spirit world. "Save my grandson. Keep him safe."

The princess dropped her head, crying in the darkness. "I promise…"

The sounds of a lightsaber battle crackled in the close distance. A slice of a lightsaber. A man's agonized cry. A loud thud.

Apple grimaced. A cry of agony. "He's getting the fodder kicked out of him by some girl."

"Ahh, I so am not carrying him…" She complained, struggling to get to her feet despite the intense cold burning in her toes. "…Dad," she called out to the cosmos, "You owe me for this."

 ********Please write a review. Thank you. More chapters to come.*******


	5. Chapter 5

******This doesn't skip the forest fight scene. So you will see what happens between Kylo, Rey, and Apple. Please send in your reviews. I really appreciate them. Enjoy!*****

"I want to know who revived her, doctor," General Hux strode towards the sick bay.

"Whomever it was had considerable knowledge of the cryoprotectants used in the imperial age or," Dr. Wintlock kept up with his young superior's fast pace, "just had extraordinary dumb luck."

"I want the man found and commended," Hux replied, increasing the length of his strides.

Dr. Wintock's left eye twitched involuntarily. "Of course, General. The man saved her life…" He paused, tipping his head back and forth, "considering what happened to the Starkiller. If it wasn't for her revival, she'd be dead along with the rest of the base. We lost a number of good men that day."

Hux stiffened visibly but didn't pause in his steps. "And the Republic also lost much," his mouth slit into a harsh smile, "The suffered the destruction of their Capitol and Senate planets. The resistance may have brokered a setback, but we have rooted out the seat of chaos."

"And we now have the future of the empire…" Dr. Wintlock didn't hesitate for the hydraulic doors to open and stepped full speed towards them.

The metal hissed open in response to his presence and he led the general into Sick Bay. "…It took some considerable stamina for her to venture out into that forest so soon after being reanimated. Full blown hibernation sickness? Drenched? She saved his life in a frozen forest, at night, and unarmed."

Hux smiled proudly, "She's an extraordinary woman."

"Woman?" Wintlock blinked, his scarred eye lagging behind. "She's sixteen."

"Sixteen?" The general nearly choked on the word, stopping stock still in his tracks.

"Sixteen," Wintlock repeated.

Hux picked up his pace again, "You are mistaken doctor. I've studied the experimentation reports. The dates support—"

"She's sixteen," Wintlock replied steadily, "I know the date she was born."

"There is no birth certificate on record."

"It's still locked under a security code only Lord Vader possessed."

"Still," Hux shook his head, "The dating on the experiments—"

"Is an inaccurate parameter," the physician interrupted him gently, "I know her birthdate."

Hux opened his mouth to contend.

"I was there at her birth," Wintlock stated firmly, "I assisted in her delivery."

The news struck Hux speechless.

The doctor weaved his way through an open gurney room full of injured crew members and stormtroopers. The medical staff attended to them in a business-like fashion. Up on the wall hung a sign that said, "if you want compassion, die and go to your maker."

Dr. Wintlock led Hux into the private section of the medical bay. "I was an intern on an obstetrics rotation with the Imperial obstetrician. She was born at 0034 with a full head of blonde curls and wide eyes that stared right at you from the moment her mouth and nose were suctioned."

He proffered the young general a quick glance, "There were many force babies being born at that time. But she was one that was born with the 'force on' so to speak. Instruments in the room lifted in the air and feel when the nurse attempted to stimulate her. Never cried. She smiled at me and cooed immediately after birth."

He stepped around a line of lab cubicles and paused long enough to give the general a straight look, "That is not normal activity for a neonate. It was easy to tell whom she liked; she made it known from infancy."

"There were no pediatric records."

"Of course there weren't." Dr. Wintlock scanned the room numbers as they past. "She didn't grown up in the empire." He shifted his pale green eyes to the younger man's face, "Not at first."

"Not at first?"

"The day after she was born," Wintlock swallowed the memory, "Princess Celestine escaped with her from the hospital and disappeared."

Hux stepped in front of the much older man, cutting off his path. His expression darkened,"Explain."

The physician sighed deeply, taking the moment to catch his breath. "Her mother ran off with her." Noticing that the general was not satisfied, he continued, "She left the empire with her baby, taking nothing but the clothes on her back, and disappeared for over ten years."

Hux moved his head back, digesting the information. "My father told me glorious stories of the imperial days. What reason could the imperial princess have for skulking off with her newborn in the middle of the night?"

"You were too young to know the imperial household," Dr. Wintlock lifted his foot out of the way of a scurrying muck droid, "and your father was fortunate enough to be transferred to the Arkanis Academy."

Hux pinched his brow, considering, "Was it Lord Vader?"

"No," Dr. Wintlock answered carefully, "there was never a more proud papa than the dark Lord. Vader didn't care that she wasn't a boy; he was just happy that she was his biological child," his guttural accent became more pronounced, "the baby was beautiful and she melted him."

"Then why," Hux's face darkened, angrily, "would a mother take her child away from the empire where she belonged too? From the seat of true power and organization? The mother lacking in loyalty? The princess should have been groomed at the foot of the throne."

The seasoned doctor stared at Hux for a moment as the young man slowed his breathing and tempered himself.

"You never knew the emperor," the physician said simply.

Hux shifted his upper body to the side, signaling him to walk on. "My father told me of the glory days, of the emperor's absolute and wise reign."

"Absolute," Wintlock repeated delicately, "It was absolute." He continued walking, "Lord Vader was accurate in stating that the Emperor was less forgiving than even he was. Many service members preferred working under Darth Vader than under the emperor." His eyes shot to Hux's face. "They lasted longer."

The young general clasped his hands behind his back. "Naturally, those outside the imperial family should be cut down for lack of success. Failure is a sign weakness."

"Failure?" The physician's eyebrows shot up, "What failures could children possibly make to warrant death?"

"Natural selection ensures that only the strongest and the best survive." Hux smiled, a flash of fanaticism crossed his handsome features.

"Now, that is your father talking, sir."

"And he was correct," Hux's smile broadened, "The stormtrooper program has had 100% success."

"99 % success," the doctor corrected, reminding him subtly of the recent stormtrooper traitor.

Hux's smile stiffened. "There will be recalibrations to account for future discrepancies."

"Discrepancies?" Dr. Wintlock stopped in front of a large private patient room, "My dear General. The emperor ordered all thirty of his illegitimate children and two of his legitimate children killed without discrepancy."

He stared the younger man in the eye, ignoring his own twitching eyelid. "That baby girl gave Lord Vader a clear claim to the throne."

"Clearly."

"To make the child's political predicament even more precarious: Her mother Princess Celestine and Lord Vader married secretly a few years prior to her birth. She was his second wife. The first wife was supposed to have died during childbirth."

Hux mulled the situation over. "Padame Amidala of Naboo."  
Wintlock nodded, "Vader hadn't known about Luke and Leia Skywalker. His second wife, Princess Celestine was more loyal to his dark side choices. In fact, she suggested the genetical experiment to Emperor Palpatine. She offered herself as a test subject—it was in actuality an attempt to legitimately bear her husband's children…"

He put his hand on the door's security controls, curling his fingers into a fist before touching the panel's keys. "I worked under the physician whom helped her keep the baby's gender a secret. A boy would keep the Emperor in control. A girl would give Lord Vader added political power as the child's regent. Once the Emperor discovered the baby's gender, the child was dead."

He exhaled slowly, "As a young mother, Princess Celestine had good reason to escape with her newborn, Apelaine. The doctor that hid her prenatal records was executed. And," he typed the security code into the keypad, "Lord Vader made sure the child's birth records were concealed, hiding her existence until it was more politically appropriate to bring her back to the empire." He tipped his head back, "Which was a few years after Alderaan was destroyed."

A loud beep erupted. The doors hissed open, revealing a massive private room manned by several physicians and staff.

"And here is the result…" Dr. Wintlock opened his hand at the sleeping princess in the center of the room, "the last surviving heir to the imperial throne."

She was half hidden behind a privacy curtain, but what he could see of her was enough to stop him in his tracks. Long, light blonde hair pouring over the edges of the gurney and piled over her waist, the princess curled around a small portion of dark fabric, hands and feet bandaged. Her tattered silk and Coruscantean chiffon pale blue dress entangled in the bed's metal railings.

A small smile turned up the corner's of her mouth. Unconscious. Breathing softly. Snuggled into a ball, she appeared as if she was in peaceful sleep instead of being monitored for electrolytes and vital signs.

Hux took a sharp intake of breath. She was even more beautiful and cherubic than even her carbonite form. "How is she?"

"She is recovering nicely." Dr. Wintlock studied the general's enraptured expression carefully, "As a prodigy, sir, you are still quite young yourself. You are barely nine years her senior."

"I hope time will soon close the gap between our ages," Hux spoke outloud despite himself. "She'd make a beautiful bride at any age."

"Your mother has ties to the Tarkin house," Dr. Wintlock commented in agreement, "a connection between your families would strengthen the First Order considerably. Sixteen is more than the legal age for marriage."

Hux reached out to touch her. "The future will be supersede the past."

The old physician caught his wrist. "I wouldn't recommend you touch her at this time."

"Is it too soon?" Hux suddenly felt nervous. "Being trapped in carbonite, she might need a few years to—"

"That's not my intimation," the doctor explained with a chuckle, "She's quite remarkable. If it wasn't for her, he'd be dead as well," he pulled back the curtain exposing Kylo Ren unconscious next to her.

The two force users laid side by side on the same metallic gurney. Hands clasped and still in their original clothes. Part of their sleep was due to sedatives. Part due to something entirely different. Kylo laid on his back, face pale, eyes clenched, and drenched in sweat. His side and shoulder wounds were dressed in silver impregnated gauze. The princess curled into his neck, knees tucked up next to his arm.

Hux stiffened, a sudden flare of resentment flushed his veins. "What is this?"

"They came in together: the angel and…" Dr. Wintlock frowned, "the devil. Why she risked her life for that son of a virago, I can not fathom." He turned to the general currishly, "Did you know Lord Ren killed his own father?"

"Snoke ordered it," Hux quickly dismissed his accusation, eyes never leaving the princess's face. "The man was a smuggler and resistance sympathizer."

Wintlock spun a pair of chairs towards himself and the general. "I stand corrected. So he is a loyal boy?"

"Obtusely loyal and wickedly exasperating," Hux ignored the chairs. He ventured closer to the patients. "But why are they together like that?"

Dr. Wintlock rubbed his weathered neck in a squeezing motion before answering, "Well…General…We have not been able to separate them."

Finally, Hux shifted his grey-green eyes to the seasoned physician. "What do you mean, you are not able to separate them?"

"BH-5972," Wintlock called out to a trooper, "Carry the princess to gurney C-3."

The stormtrooper leaned his rifle against the wall and padded over to the sleeping girl.

The physician took a step back. Once the trooper grabbed the princess, a bolt of blue lighting hit him square in the chest.

Dr. Wintlock shot out an arm across Hux's chest. He swiftly moved the general out of the way as the trooper flew past them. Armor crackling with lightning, the soldier flung into the wall.

The old physician chuckled. "Still makes me laugh."

The rest of the staff stopped what they were doing to clap and whistle.

"That one got some serious air time." Another physician high-fived a technician.

"Alright," Dr. Wintlock called out to them, "You had your fun. Get this man a gurney and send for another guard."

Crew members moved into action to snatch a stretcher.

Hux watched them cart the trooper away with a blanched frown. "That was rather… unexpected."

"Eh, I've seen it several times," Wintlock flicked his hand, amused, "It still never gets old. Try to separate these two and boom!" He laughed heartily.

Hux swallowed a small lump of jealousy. "And why are they together like that in the first place? What happened between them out in that forest?" His anger rose. "What were they doing out there?"

The princess nestled curled innocently into Kylo Ren's shoulder, their closet hands clasped at their side and the other ones clasped over his chest.

"I have no idea, General, but I believe they're healing each other," Dr. Wintlock observed, "Force users have a higher than normal ability to self heal, and when two of them are together…" he picked up a data pad, "they heal even faster than alone. In this case, I believe she's doing majority of the healing."

Wintlock handed him the data pad. "Observe his vitals."

Hux scanned the medical chart.

"When the crew brought them in," the imperial physician explained, "he had hemorrhagic shock, a tension pneumothorax, lacerated spleen, and marked hypothermia. Now…" he shrugged, "he's stable and we haven't even had to start surgery. His spleen laceration has healed. His lungs are expanding appropriately and—"

"She's protecting him?" Hux tossed aside the data pad, nostrils flaring.

Dr. Wintlock maintained an objective air, "He is her nephew."

"Is that all this is?" Hux grumbled bitterly.

"They may be closer in age," The aged doctor sat on the edge of the gurney next to her, suddenly nostalgic. "But I'd say so. She was exactly like this years ago when father finally found her again. She was eleven. They found her on a planet at the edge of Xang-Tii territory…"

"I have heard of that territory," Hux tried to focus on something other than the couple before him. "I always wondered why the first generals didn't conquer it."

"Conquer it?" Dr. Wintlock laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye. "The Xang-Tii were powerful. Jedi on crack. A species so integrated with the force that they could teleport at moment's notice. Strange mystic ways. Powerful actions. A cult."

He shook his broad head, bobbing his muscular shoulders. "Any sith that went there either was sent back dead or never returned. Star destroyers disappeared in their territory. No one ventured into their territory and savvy generals stayed away from it."

He lifted his bushy eyebrows. "And there she was: the lost princess, calling out to her father on the edge of Xang-Tii territory. Unfortunately, the troopers that first came off the shuttle panicked and started shooting at shadows apparently…"

Dr. Wintlock folded his arms across his chest, stretching his uniform against his pronounced pectorals muscles. "… I wasn't there, but the little twelve year old boy with her took out the lot of them before Lord Vader could stop them. She came in just like she is now, curled up next to the little boy she grew up with, holding hands and healing each other. I'm not exactly sure, but I believe his name was Kae'lis."

"A jedi boy?"

"No." The doctor mused. "Not hardly. Not a drop of midicholrians were found in the boy's blood. He was just half-Xang-Tii, a naturally mentally superior and dedicated species. At twelve, he offered himself as her body guard. The boy could outfight seasoned adult sith. Never smiled. Never laughed. But amazing with lightsabers. Scary child really."

"What happened to him?"

"Unknown." Dr. Wintlock eyed the princess's vitals monitor then shifted his attention to Kylo's before continuing, "he must have died when the rebels rushed the palace. I didn't keep track of the boy. He wasn't my responsibility."

Hux stared at the sleeping couple. "But this is not that boy. This is a man she never met before out in that forest."

"True." Dr. Wintlock slapped his thigh, pushing off of the gurney to stand. "Kylo Ren is not a Xang-Tii. But he is her nephew. Perhaps, she sensed that about him. From what I knew of her, she was selfless and loving. A sweet girl, actually."

A shrill beeping erupted on the monitor next to Kylo's head. The knight's face strained.

"Blast! His brain activity is spiking again," Dr. Wintlock frowned. "He's going to crash. I swear on the Imperial crest, if it wasn't for the princess, Lord Ren would be dead."

The princess's vitals started to waver as well, dropping down significantly.

"And there it is again," Dr. Wintlock sighed as the other staff hurried over to the gurney. "She's trying to compensate for his decline. I do worry the strain on her may have lasting effects on her body."

Hux suddenly became alarmed. "Like what?"

"I don't know, sir," Dr. Wintlock shook his head, "I just hope she doesn't neglect her own healing for his sake." He turned to his staff. "Give them 1 g epinephrine. I want a neurostimulation tray at this bedside. Open the crash cart. And get respiratory in here now!"

Horrified at the sudden change in their vitals, the young general took a slight step back out of the medical personnel's way as they engulfed the couple. He had seen death several thousand times, but watching a medic strap an oxygen non-rebreather mask to the princess's face made his resolve stagger.

"What happened out there in that forest?" Hux questioned no one in particular.

"I do not know, general," the aged military doctor replied tense, "but whatever it was, it was serious enough to put both their lives in danger."

"Then separate them at once!" Hux flared.

"Impossible." Dr. Wintlock maintained his calm professional demeanor. "No one can even—"

"Saw off his arm if you have to," Hux said coldly. "You can always make him a new arm," he smiled snakily then shouted, emotions changing instantly, "You can't make another one of her. She better live or you are all executed tomorrow."

The other two physicians stopped, hesitating. Nurses and medics froze. A new found horror filled the air.

"Continue with the resuscitation as previously ordered," Dr. Wintlock told them firmly, then placed himself between the general and the scene. "I understand your concerns, General." He whispered harshly, "Your love for the girl is clouding your judgement. Step outside and let my staff do their job. And if you mind, please stop harassing them with threats of death. I'm afraid it will affect my turnover rates."

Hux scuffled his boots backwards movement. "Fine." He pierced his lips and nodded. "But if she dies doctor—"

"I know," the dark-skinned physician interrupted levelly, "We all do and you have to hire a completely new staff. Good luck with human resources on that one. Now, move aside and allow us to do our jobs."

Hux straightened his uniform. "Then we're in accordance." Spinning on his heel, he stalked off.

Dr. Wintlock turned his attention back to the resuscitation efforts in front of him. His mind raced. What happened out there in that forest? What ever it was, it had the young knight trapped in a cycle of neurological distress and the two of them on the verge of death.

 ****** Please send in reviews. I love hearing your thoughts. Thank you for reading*****


	6. Chapter 6

*******I don't have time to edit these, because of my heavy work schedule, so please ignore grammar errors. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please write reviews, I really love hearing what you have to say. Thank you and enjoy!*******

The intense, torrid pain sliced through Kylo's chest, blue saber particles searing a streak down his tunic. Ozone and burning flesh instantly filled his nostrils. The force of the blow threw him backwards.

"Agghhh!" He cried out, half from rage and half from excruciating pain.

He landed with a bone-wrenching thud. A loud pop erupted from inside his chest. Before the intense frigidity of the snow battered him, a sudden pressure stole his breath in a single violent cough. His chest compacted. Like a man trapped underwater, he gulped for air. No matter how he tried, with every breath his chest constricted tighter against his inhalations.

"Agghhhh!" He howled, clutching onto his anger with every upsurge of pain.

Grappling weakly for his saber, he struggled to breath. The air hunger hit him in several increasing waves. With every inspiration, his breathing became more shallow. More deadly. His gloved fingers clumsily found nothing more than snow. His lightsaber was gone. His resolve wasted.

The Jakku girl Rey towered over him, glaring. She swung the blue lightsaber around for a second strike. His grandfather's lightsaber. His lightsaber.

It's blue energy buzzed angrily reflecting on her suntanned face. Her expression was unforgiving. Her eyes… Deadly.

Kylo gasped for oxygen. The sucking gulp sent white hot spasms of pain across his torso. His vision blurred. Frigid snow penetrated his clothes. One cough and another set of spasms racked him. The memory of his father's face as he killed him returned at that moment with a vengeance… as if it reflected out of her accusing stare.

Kylo stopped searching his fingers for his saber. It was useless. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes. He would never achieve Vader's dream. The lightsaber sounded its arching and final strike. He prepared himself for death.

In an instant crunching of snow, something warm and soft… and _wet_?… covered him. The lightsaber strike snapped to a halt. It's buzzing paused before whipping back away.

"Move!" Rey yelled in an almost frustrated cry.

"No!" Another girl's voice challenged her.

Kylo opened his eyes. Shallow breathing dimmed his vision.

A young, delicate featured girl shielded him with her own body. "Leave him alone."

"Get out of the way!"

"No!" The blonde girl protested, blind eyes searching Rey's general direction, "I won't let you harm this boy."

Fading sight, he squinted his eyes. Her innocent voice shouldn't have been familiar but it was. The softness in it soothed him. Her touch relieved him.

"Why are you protecting him?" Rey clenched her fists, drawing a burning line in the snow with the tip of the lightsaber.

"He's my nephew," she answered matter-of-factly.

Kylo's eyes flinched wider for a moment. His… aunt? What was her name? The pain tore into his cognition. The lack of oxygen fogged his perspective. A perfectly feminine face trapped in carbonite filled his memories. Her name? What was her name?

An answer wafted to him on the edges of the ether. " _Ben_ … _She's your aunt, Apple. Her name is Apple. Trust her_."

"He's a murderer!" Rey shouted, leaning her torso towards the blind younger girl.

"He's a sith," Apple replied unpretentiously. It was almost a flat statement as if she was describing the daily news rather than taking on a woman with a lightsaber pointed at her.

"A what?" Rey's resolve backpedaled for a moment. She shook it off and verbally attacked again, "He killed Han!"

The princess blinked her sightless eyes for a moment before simply asking, "Who?"

"Han," Rey repeated, almost crying, "He killed Han!" Tears streamed tracks through the dirt on her cheeks.

"That's your….?" Apple ventured searchingly as if waiting for the Jakku girl to fill the information, but guessed instead, "husband?"

Kylo coughed, almost choking on a laugh.

"What?" Rey gasped startled. The lightsaber bobbed away in a disbelieving gesture. She regathered herself, "No."

"Brother?" Apple tried again, then pointed in the girl's general direction with a 'I-got-it!'-grin, "Boyfriend? He was your boyfriend, wasn't he?!"

"What?" Rey choked incredulous.

A laugh slammed Kylo's chest with a string of vicious coughs. He cursed.

"Yes," Apple bobbed her head with a 'hah-that's-it' knowing look, "you little love birds got all mushy in front of Kylo, didn't you?"

The knight of Ren chugged out a gurgling wheeze, ripping him into another coughing spell. But instead of pure torture, the pain subsided swifter this time.

Apple wagged her index finger back and forth at a dumbstruck Rey, whom barely managed a gasping "huh?"

"You were all lovey-dovey, making this sith boy sick to his stomach and he killed your Han for it, didn't he?" She sighed exasperated, "Don't you know the number one rule for serving the Empire?" She informed with a shake of her head, "Never engage in Public Displays of Affection in front of Sith. It makes them go all Rebel on you." She continued in a teaching tone, "Remember the Love Day Celebration of '26? It ended in a blood bath because a bunch of lovesick couples decided to parade around in front of Sith kissing. Death! Bloodshed! Mayhem! There's nothing Sith hate more than happy-mushy couples playing missy-face out in public! Next time get a room."

Rey blinked a few slow blinks, making a struck face. "Ewe! No!" She opened and closed her mouth as if trying to wrap her mind around what just happened. "What are you even rambling on about? Han was like a father to me!"

Apple jerked her head back, with a 'mrph' sound, "Ewe. You made out with your father-figure?" She shuddered, "Ewe! You jedi are sick, sick people." She raised her eyebrows and shook her long hair, "No wonder he did him in."

"What?!" Rey was beyond ready to strike someone with that lightsaber and this time it wasn't Kylo Ren.

At that moment Kylo's breathing began to ease more noticeably, he realized what his aunt was actually doing. The warmth of her hand on his chest. The feelings of her force traveling along his vessels into his lungs. His breathing regulating to match hers? The decrease in his pain? She was purposefully distracting Rey while she healed him. He attempted to suck in a mouthful of air against the crushing pain. A cough tore at him. He winced ferociously. Alright. That was too soon.

"So…" Apple dragged out the word.

Even though her visionless eyes couldn't see the indignation etched on Rey's face, she obviously could sense the dangerous change in her demeanor.

"…since the planet," the princess said carefully, "is… ehhh, I don't know… going to …mmm, how do I put this?… Explode. Then maybe," she tried a persuasive approach, "we might want to save this…" she struggled for the right word, "psychologically awkward conversation for a later time. How about you, go back to your rebel-Jedi clan and leave my nephew—who is dying—with me, a drenched blind woman in a freezing forest and call it even."

Rey's response was not all that encouraging. "He deserves to die."

"I deserve a hot bath and a mani-pedi, but we're both not getting what we deserve right now," she retorted then enunciated strongly, "This place is going to _explode!_ "

As if to emphasis his aunt's words, the planet convulsed with loud rumbling.

Rey's eyes went wide as she stumbled back a few steps. The planetoid quaked.

Apple covered Kylo with her body. Snow clumped out of the trees, falling on them in a blanket of frigid snow.

"Cold. Cold. Cold." She shivered, teeth chattering.

A massive combustion erupted, cracking the planet into several canyons. A burning crevice broke towards them. Rey jumped out of the way, arms bobbing wildly for balance as the ground shattered in two. The scorching chasm opened further, separating the jedi girl from them with a river of molten lava.

A squall of fire and steam shot up from the ground fissure, blowing Apple's long hair and dress upward.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!" She cried. The steam stopped in an instant dropping her now dry hair and dress.

Some of the rumbling ended in a growling gurgle of magma spraying on frozen snow. Kylo could no longer see the Jedi girl. He could hardly see anything except the destruction of his once powerful Starkiller base around him.

Apple tugged on his shoulders. "Kylo, no sleeping." She struggled to help him up. "We've got to go."

"Where…?" He managed painfully. "It's… over."

"Not until the fat Hut," she strained to move herself under his armpit, "sings. Now get up!"

Strength spent, he stumbled on unsteady feet. Dizziness swept over him. His rapid breaths were ragged. The jostling racked him with agony.

"Now would be a good time to get angry, sith boy," Apple gingerly and blindly stepped forward under the majority of his weight. Her weak legs trembled.

The planetoid roared and rocked around them, pitching them forward into the snow.

"Father!" She cried to the sky. "I can't do this alone."

Another explosion slagged the small planet. A tree cracked in half, tumbling before them.

Apple trembled, clinging to her nephew. "What was that?"

"A… tree…" he breathed with considerable effort, "fell."

"Fell?" Her blind eyes searched back and forth then her expression lightened. "Thank you, dad!"

She felt for the tree trunk. "Where is it?"

"A few… more.. breaths… a-head," he answered gruelingly.

He could feel her mind reach out, searching and probing.

"Stormtroopers," she said finally, "due east. I think we can make it." She helped him back up with a strained smile, "You ever pod race?"

"No." He staggered.

"Neither have I." She reached out for the log, stretching her hand gingerly until her fingertips contacted its rough bark. "How hard could it be."

"It… is… a log."

"Picky. Picky," she quipped.

"We… are… going to," he winced severely, "die."

"Are you always this optimistic?" She shivered against his armpit. "Climb on," she instructed, guiding him towards the tree.

He slipped on the snow, body exhausted. Blood soaked his clothing. Weakness drenched his muscles.

His weight took her down with him. Digging into his hate, he numbed his pain long enough to twist his body to avoid smacking them both into the tree. He hissed sharply.

She took an intake of air. Blood and scratches covered her legs and bare feet. the ice had taken its toll on her.

The planet shuddered under another string of explosions. The roar of the planet's death increased in magnitude. She covered him with her small body. Fear wafted off her as she cried out. Terrified. Freezing. Weak. He could feel her emotions. His own air hunger, nausea, and stabbing pain clawed at his consciousness.

"We are not going to die here!" She said as if trying to tell herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Fear furrowed her brow.

Force lifted locks of her hair. The tingling sensation of the force prickled on the surface of his skin as it gripped him. His body became weightless. She telekinetically lifted him onto the log then straddled it behind him.

"You going to drive or am I?"

"It's a log," he managed to say easier. The force still gripped him.

"Fine, then I will." She shifted her weight in tiny scoots, so that her frame molded up against his back and her thighs locked his to the sides of the log.

Patting gently along his arms, she said, "Give me your hands."

He coughed as she fumbled her numb, frozen fingers to remove his gloves. "Sorry about my cold hands but I need skin to skin contact." She interlocked her fingers with his. A rush of the force flowed into his palms from hers. "Now hang on." She wrapped her arms around his waist, fingers still entertained with his.

Weak, he slumped back against her. "This is… foolhardy."

"Ahh…" She teased, despite the explosions in the background and her own trembling, "this is going to be fun. Just think of it as an exciting log ride with your aunt."

"You're…" he tried to suck in more air, "blind."

"Well…" She steadied herself, curling against his shoulder. Her fear was almost palpable. "…no body is perfect." Her voice turned serious, "Kylo, I need your eyes. Don't you dare pass out on me."

With a single exhale, she swept her telepathic touch out to his mind, blending their thoughts and senses. Not exactly physically strong herself, she still had functional lungs. Her relative strength stabilized him.

The force wrapped them in a warm comforter. In a tiny jostling of breaking branches, the tree turned downhill. Swoosh! A telekinetic boost, the log sledded down the snow.

Trees shot past. Snow crunched. Planetary popping erupted, shooting blasts of lava from the ground around them. The log weaved and dodged through the mayhem.

The ground shook, cracking in the close distance before them. A line of magma bubbled up as a small canyon opened ahead of them.

Kyle's eyes widened, "Apple!"

"I see it!" She replied then quickly corrected herself, "Actually, you see it."

"Turn!"

"We can make it."

He coughed, stabbing the electrical pain across his chest. "We… will.. not."

"Cup's half-full, nephew," she chastised, concentrating her mind on increasing the force, "Cup's half-full."

The chasm increased in width before them. A shuttle could fit in that volcanic crack. The scorching steam melted the snow into waves of water. The log headed straight for it. The heat was blistering.

"Father, please." Apple softly closed her blind eyes pleading.

The bubbling lava sputtered, pouring over the edges.

Shallow breathing or not, Kylo cursed loudly as their log sped towards the impending chasm of doom.

In a bounce, the log jumped the magma, soaring across it. The sweltering steam singed their legs and arms.

Their log ride jumped clear to the other side of lava river, smacking down on the snowy bank in a rough thwack. Out of control. The log ricocheted off another tree and spun like a top through a frozen glen and down another hill. Crashing through a flurry of brush, it hit a bump, catching air.

Stormtroopers rushed towards them. "There he is!"

The log slammed down hard on the snow. It finally slid to a banking stop before a platoon of stormtroopers. The rear of the log whipped in an arching motion, spraying the soldiers with a crest of snow.

Exhaling, Apple shook off snow, beyond ready to collapse. "That… wasn't so bad."

Kylo fell to the side off the tree with a high-pitched moan. "Errrr."

All the stormtroopers winced, hands cupping to their groins.

The knight of Ren blacked out, Apple's face blurring out of his sight until everything was black.

A flash of a lightsaber. Searing pain cut through his chest. Kylo flew backwards, breath suddenly tightening his chest.

" _Really?! How many times is he going to replay that memory?"_ Apple's frustrated voice echoed through his mind. " _I can't heal him, if he's going to continue to hang on to that and when he killed his dad."_

The memory reversed coming to a halt, freezing the reverie as if in a single frame. Chunks of snow froze mid-air. Rey's movements stopped at a single moment.

Kyle's mind pulled away from the memory. The scenery changed to a black volcanic terrain. Dark clouds hovered overhead. Black lightning stung the ground as thunder rumbled.

He glanced around himself. In the far distance, a bright light broke through the clouds. Heading for it, he transversed the expanse in a thought.

Spanning before him was a bright, spring garden. Clear blue sky. Colorful flowers. Soft furry animals hopping around his boots.

Apple stood before floating images of different spiraling colors, next to a man in Jedi robes and a deep scar down his face. Her long hair curled down to the ground, mixing with the delicate ribbons of her soft white gown.

The man pointed a few fingers at an image of the inside of a lung to the upper left. Dark colors weaved in and out of the lung coursing in winding tendrils interchanging with golden soft light waves. "Just concentrate on healing this lung," his palm opened at the image of a torn bleeding organ, "and his spleen."

"Dad," she turned to the man with a pout, "I'm tired. I've been working on his organs for hours. Every time I make some progress, he has another emotional outburst and his heart starts to give out." She opened her palm at the silver-smoke lined floating images, bobbling the pearl bracelets on her wrist, "This is a textbook case of broken heart syndrome. It's as though he really doesn't want to live."

In half the time it takes to blink an eye, Kylo knew they were talking about him and he knew how desperate his physical situation was.

"I want to live," he said suddenly.

The two snapped their attention to him. The man smiled weakly then disappeared.

Apple glanced to where the jedi had been, opening her mouth to protest, but closed it. Clasping her hands, she turned back to him. "Welcome back, Kylo."

"I am Ben," his light self corrected her, closing the distance between them.

"Ben," she said as if testing out the name. Her large aquamarine eyes took all of him in. "So this is what you really look like? Because you look like a jedi…" She opened her hand.

An image of a wanted picture of a scruffy-looking jedi appeared above her hand. The man's hair was sticking up in wild directions, his padawan braid hung down over his shoulder, and it read in Coruscantean above his head, "Jedi wanted dead. Not alive. Dead. Dead. Dead."

Ben glanced down at his jedi robes and shrugged. "No." He hiked his thumb over his shoulder, "I look like him."

She followed where his thumb pointed. His other self stalked into a darker area, lighting crackling sinisterly behind him. While Ben wore light colored Jedi robes, a padawan braid, and a peaceful expression, Kylo looked like a bad version of a sith recruitment ad. Wearing his black Knight of Ren uniform and mask, he hatefully opened and closed his fists in slow motions.

"That is Kylo," Ben explained as if she hadn't already guessed.

Kylo removed his mask, revealing glowing red eyes and deadly expression.

"That's a bad case of red eye," she commented unphased, "There are drops for that."

Ben chuckled. Kylo howled, darkness clouding the terrain behind him.

Apple glanced from Ben's short black hair that fell just above his ear in thick cherubic curls and his big happy blue eyes to Kylo's longer frizzed black hair and glowing red eyes.

"So you split yourself in two," she stated flatly, "Well… Now we know why it has been so difficult to heal you."

Ben shrugged. "We split when he killed, dad. He still feels a little bad about it."

With a cruel smile, Kylo didn't look too repentant. "You don't know the power of the darkside."

Apple sighed deeply, "I am much too tired for this."

 ******Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. There are more chapters to come, so please write reviews. Thank you tons!******


	7. Chapter 7

***********I did take liberties with Kylo Ren, both in physical appearance and in personality… :). Please send in a review, I look forward to reading them. If you like something, comment. If you don't like something, comment. :)******

 ******I don't have time to change anything editorial wise so, like I've said before… there will be grammar errors. ******

Red and green lightsabers clashed. Sparks flew. It would have been an epic battle if it wasn't for the fact that Ben Solo and Kylo Ren, the dual split-personalities of one man, were battling each other over control of his body.

Apple rubbed her temple. Technically, her mental self didn't rub anything. Her body was still unconscious, trapped in Force sleep as she attempted to heal the body that the two numskulls were wrecking. Her irritation rose.

"Stop it!" Apple stomped her foot, pouting angrily. "Stop it right now!"

The mental world rocked with her childlike fury. The ground quaked and threw them onto unsteady legs. Their arms waved as they attempted to regain balance.

She stomped her foot again, "I can not keep cleaning up the messes you two make." She pointed at them, shaking her curls and pouting serious stink face, "You… you.. big bullies are ruining my work."

They pointed at each other. "But he started it." Or rather the Ben Solo personality said that. Kylo Ren just pointed at his counterpart with a threatening glare, "I will end you."

Apple stretched her head back, stutter-stamping her feet in a frustrated dance. "Mrrrrrgh! I don't care who started it; you're hurting your own body and… mine. And," she gave them the major-stink face, "I actually like my body."

"He killed father!" Ben protested, stabbing his index finger at his darker half.

Kylo's red eyes formed glowing slits. "You pathetic weakling. I wouldn't have had to end him if you were stronger in the dark side." He leaned towards him slowly, "You will never be powerful enough."

"Dad was a good man," Ben countered. "He loved us. And you killed him," he stressed, needling his other side, "killed him in cold blood. Now you can't even cope with the fact that you were the one that did it."

The darker side flashed him an obscene gesture, "Bite me." A twisted cruel smile turned up the corner of his mouth. "Why don't you put on your big boy panties and just except the fact that I'm in control now?"

Ben retorted. "Why don't you pull your head out of your dark side and quit being such an a—"

Apple cleared her throat. "Umm, guys…"

They snapped their attention to her. "What?"

Piercing her lips in a goofy 'guess what' smile with raised eyebrows, she held out her hand at the crashing physiological images behind her. "Your body's dying."

Ben rushed towards the heart view. "My blood pressure is—"

"Tanking," Apple finished for him flatly, "I know." She sighed. "See this is what I've been trying to explain to you. Your body—"

"…is losing a lot of blood," Kylo observed, suddenly at her side, "and is in respiratory distress?" He scowled. "My body is feeble just like my other half. Figures."

She glanced up at him. "Well, are you going to continue to complain or are you going to help me fix yourself?"

He shifted his glowing eyes down towards her. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Nope."

His voice deepened menacingly. "You should be."

"Nah," Apple shrugged not phased by his dark demeanor, "you remind me too much of home," she gave him a 'throw-him-a-bone' smile, "But you do make me feel a little nostalgic for my dad."

"For Vader?" His expression wavered, softening. The red in his eyes mellowed slightly. He blinked and turned his face away. "I will fulfill his goals."

"I'm sure you will," Apple patted him on the arm, distracted by the fluctuating energy signatures rampaging through the images, "If we survive this."

A wave of physical fatigue buffeted their immaterial world. Apple's mental self faded under the profound pressure. They may have been the subliminal aspects of their existences, but their material environment began to spiral into emergent resuscitative measures. The voices of the medical staff echoed out of the real world as if from a vast distance.

Ben scanned the images. "Kylo, we're not the only one in danger." He opened and clenched his fist, almost ready to chew on his knuckle. "She's been using her own energy to sustain us. Kylo—" He spun to face his other self.

Apple collapsed back into Kylo's arms. He cradled her fading spiritual form against his chest.

"Good catch," Ben grinned.

"Shut up." Kylo curled his upper lip. "It's your fault, she's suffering. Your lack of power—"

"You speak as though you particularly like her," Ben snickered at him then turned to study the images, rather unsure of where to even start.

"I," Kylo held her close, grinding his teeth at his other counterpart, "do not completely hate her. She is Darth Vader's daughter."

"Good…" Ben moved the images into a linear pattern, "because we're going to need her alive, if we are going to survive this."

"Nice to be wanted alive." Apple pouted at him snarkily, then looked up at Kylo, "Is Ben always this self-absorbed?"

"No," Kylo answered, red eyes on his Jedi half, "he's much worse."

"See…" Apple struggled to stand, "this is exactly why Jedi are outlaws."

That brought a smile to Kylo's face.

—-

There were moments when General Hux was grateful that his office was sound-proof. That night was one of them.

"You lost a Starkiller base! One of the greatest weapons in the history of the galaxy!" Grand Admiral Brendol Hux stormed at his son, furious. "You are a disgrace, Armitage!"

General Hux flinched under his father's deadly gaze. In one glance, the man had the power to reduce him to the days when he was the four-year-old boy, Armitage.

The Grand Admiral loomed over his son on the large monitor. Blue eyes burning, he paused in his verbal onslaught only long enough to take a single breath. "You have always been a disappointment."

Brendol Hux was old school, an imperial that believed in absolute control and punishment. Preferring the impersonal and humiliating nature of 2-D image transfers to holograms, he made sure his expanded image loomed over his youngest boy. Auburn hair graying at the temples and hawk-like features, the Grand Admiral was already a formidable man. The expanded image deliberately made him appear even more imposing. "You…" he slowly enunciated with a curl of his lip, "are… your mother's son."

General Hux flinched. Except for inheriting his father's once auburn hair and blue eyes, Armitage was a splitting image of his mother. A beautiful woman, but a woman not particularly know for superior intellect. He felt the full sting of his father's words most intimately.

"A few resistance fighters," His father spat contemptuously, "and your fleet folds like a line of clankers!"

"And before that," Hux gripped the controls panel with white knuckled fists, "I destroyed the entire seat of the Republic." He threw out his arm in stiff gesture, forcing himself not to shrink under his father's cold glare. "In one blast, I annihilated their capital and the Senate house. One blast, father."

His father's expression sharply hardened.

"Sorry," Hux dropped his head slightly defeated, "I meant, Grand Admiral." He had not earned the right to call him father… yet.

The aged Admiral breathed through flared nostrils slowly. "And do you honestly think your small concession was a triumph?" He sneered, the First Order insignia on his collar flashing in the red-hued light. "It was hardly an achievement worthy of the Hux name. You are disgracefully fortunate that the Supreme Leader saw fit," he spat, emphasizing the 't' sound, "to spare your worthless life. I wouldn't have afforded you such a privilege."

Hux leaned his upper body slightly away from the fury of his father's rampage. He glanced away. "Snoke knows my real worth."

"You will call him Supreme Leader, general." Brendol Hux snapped, "You are unworthy of speaking his name," his sharp jaw set harshly, "especially after your recent shameful performance." He looked down his nose at his son. "You will never live up to your brother's memory."

Armitage moistened his lips carefully. He knew exactly what was coming next.

"You ruined the one chance to seek revenge for your brother's death," the Grand Admiral shook tightly, "The Republic took from me and from your mother, the only real triumph of the family. You will never replace Sei'n. You are hardly even half the man he once was. I could never again have such an excellent son as him. And you allowed those that murdered him," he bared his yellowing teeth, "to destroy the StarKiller base! You have mocked his name."

Armitage swallowed. His uniform's collar felt tighter. His whole life he had heard of his elder brother's perfection. Not only top of his class intellectually, Sei'n was a physical achievement in superiority. He fulfilled their father's dream. An exceptional soldier. A top marksman. An unbeatable strategist. Sei'n was a complete prodigy in all areas. Natural selection favored him, while Hux—according to their father—had only his intellect to recommend him. Intellect alone never was enough. And the admiral reminded Armitage at every opportunity of the same adage…

"If only," the Grand Admiral stated with little effort to conceal his true feelings, "you had died instead of him. I would be a proud father once again."

"The capital planet and the entire Republic senate are destroyed," General Hux struggled to keep his voice level. The veins in the sides of his neck throbbed as his skin reddened. "The military blow the Republic faced is calamitous. I know—"

"You know nothing! The military blow we faced, general," the aged admiral pronounced his son's military title as if it was absurd, "has set the First Order back billions of credits. Where do you think the money will come from to fix your incompetency?"

Armitage took an intake of breath. Shoulders bowing under the pressure of his father's words, the young general leaned onto his hands over the console. His fingers barely felt the icy metal beneath them.

"There will never be another Empire," the venom had left his father's tone, anger vented. The conversation apparently left them both exhausted and spent. "We will never see the rise of destiny again."

General Hux blinked for a moment, then lifted his eyes to his father's face. "The empire will rise again." He straightened himself and his uniform. "The last princess lives and I have found her."

His father waved him off dismissively. "You have discovered a block of carbonite ice. Nothing more." He pulled away from the screen. "I have heard about her trapped corpse. Now, if you have nothing more to report—"

"She's no longer trapped in carbonite," Armitage set a smile on half of his mouth. "She's recovering in sick bay."

Eyes flashing manically, the Grand Admiral jerked closer to the screen. "Say it is true!"

"Dr. Wintlock is handling her treatment as we speak," Armitage explained, hopeful, "she suffers from hibernation sickness, but he believes she will recover." Purposefully neglecting to mention that the princess was still unconscious and she was in critical condition, the young general closed his mouth preventing himself from slipping under his father's penetrating stare.

Brendol Hux sat back in his seat, awestruck. "The Emperor's granddaughter."

"She's beautiful," the young general blurted before catching himself.

His father's eyebrows shot up. "Well…"

Armitage braced himself for another verbal lashing.

"You may be lacking in many things, my boy, but your ambition is satisfying in its limited sense." That was the first compliment he had ever received from his father.

General Hux couldn't help but smile. His chest lifted with a few enamored breaths.

"How old is the princess biologically?"

"Sixteen," Armitage tugged at his collar. "Or seventeen."

"Sixteen?" His father considered the situation carefully. "That is the legal age of marriage. It is more than appropriate. She is a woman in the eyes of the Empire. I saw her once in passing… she was a beautiful girl. Her mother the Princess Celestine was a breathtaking sight. Every time she appeared on the subspace transmissions, new planets supported the imperial cause."

He flicked his eyes across his son's face, "Your mother was eighteen when I married her. And you know from experience that she was a treasure. A perfect political marriage to a beautiful demure woman." He nodded with a condescending look, "But sixteen's a wonderful age for you. It fits your apparent lack of intellectual maturity."

Armitage's smile dropped.

"Courtship may take six months…" The old admiral rubbed his jaw in consideration, "Perhaps in your case, one year. You are rather slow."

General Hux's smile disappeared altogether.

"The engagement would take another year or two. That would make her between eighteen and nineteen when you marry her. That's reasonable."

"I thought as well," Armitage took the moment to imagine the princess in a lovely white dress, smiling at him. He blinked quickly out of the daydream.

"If you marry that girl," the admiral shook his head lips forming an 'o'. He exhaled grandiosely, "I will unquestionably be proud to call an emperor my son."

"Yes, sir!" General Hux snapped his heels together, saluting his father.

He waited, expectant for the old admiral to sign off the communication, but his father just paused instead, as if carefully contemplating his next words.

"Son," Brendol began as gently as the man had ever sounded. Rather drill sergeants running stormtroopers basic training sounded more gentle than he did, but for the admiral, it was surprising.

"There comes a time when a boy meets a girl and he has certain…" the admiral tugged at his collar, clearing his throat, "special feelings for her. Babies don't always come from test tubes…"

Horror struck General Hux. "Wha-at?" His face flushed.

"These feelings are natural, son," Brendol explained, "but it's like warfare, you have to wait for the right moment before sending the troops in."

"Oh please no." Armitage backpedaled, suddenly desperate to claw the walls to get away. "We are not having this conversation. I'm a grown man, sir."

"Yes," he continued not phased by the alarm on his son's face, "and you have yet to conquer the feminine war zone. Your mother was an appropriate conquest; our wedding night was—"

"Grand Admiral," Armitage made a severely uncomfortable face, eyes wide, "I'm sure you have more important business to attend to then wasting your time with me."

"Don't interrupt me, General," Brendol Hux snapped then his expression softened slightly, "Conquer the princess planet, boy. Obtain the contract and after the celebration, when its time for you to board the enemy flagship—"

The hydraulic doors hissed open.

"Yes!" General Hux spun around, beyond grateful for any interruption.

Commander Rokens stopped mid-step, eyes flitting to the Grand Admiral's image on the screen. "Sir!" He saluted him then said out the corner of his mouth the young general, "I can come back, sir."

"No!" Armitage reached out for him. "No. Don't go. I…" He glanced back over his shoulder at his father grimacing. "I have… uh…" He coughed into his fist, straightening himself in a perfunctory manner. "Your report, Commander?"

"Yes, relay your message, Commander," Brendol Hux stared the stocky man down over his son's shoulder coldly, "And make it quick. I have to instruct my son on the nuances of marriage and where babies come from before he blunders that war zone as well."

General Hux winced, squeezing his eyes shut. He really wished his dad hadn't said that outloud.

"The princess is awake," Rokens stammered under the intensity of the Grand Admiral's gaze.

The Hux men both gasped in unison.

"Go." The Grand Admiral nodded as his son spun on his heel to face him.

"Yes, sir!" Hux saluted him then strode for the door, the commander following.

"And remember, son," his father called out after him, "some flagships are worth waiting to board. Send in the troops after the treatise!"

The hydraulics doors hissed shut after them. General Hux dropped his head with a groan. "You never witnessed that conversation, Commander."

"I witnessed nothing, sir," Rokens struggled to keep on a professional face, back straight and eyes staring at anywhere but his superior's face, "the Grand Admiral definitely did not just teach you about the birds and the bees."

Hux straightened his uniform for the third time. "Good. And keep it that way."

 ******Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please send in your reviews. And referrals are awesome as well. If you like this story, please share it with your friends. Thank you for reading! This has been edited to include Hux's released first name.*******


	8. Chapter 8

********I've decided to make Hux 21 years old instead of 25. He needs to be more of a prodigy than that. So I'll fix the previous chapters another time, and make the change there. But 21 fits him better.*******

"What do you mean she is blind?!" Hux roared distraught.

Dr. Wintlock stared at the younger man raging inches from his face, "Simply, sir, she is technically… blind."

Hux paced back and forth like a savage animal trapped in a cage. "There is nothing simple about it, doctor!"

"I don't know how more simple the explanation can be, general." Dr. Wintlock replied. "She suffers from a rare form of blindness most likely caused by hibernation sickness, but it's not as—"

"She can't be blind!" Hux snapped throwing his arm to the side in a slicing motion, "I won't allow it!"

The seasoned physician waited patiently for the younger man to calm down.

Rapid breathing, General Hux paced for another few spans, then he sharply stopped. Placing his hands on the head of a chair, he leaned over it, defeated. "She can't be blind," the thought of it dropped him into the chair. "She just can't be." He put his face in his gloved hands for a long pause, then rubbed them up and over his hair, regathering himself. "Permanently?"

"Unknown."

That straightened the general's shoulders in a spry movement. "Then there is hope."

"Possibly," Wintlock moved to the observation controls. Flitting his fingers over the touch pad sensors, he entered the regulation sequence. "Her eyes are working, equal and reactive to light. She visually tracks as well, but she can't distinguish details. It's—"

"Details?" Hux put his hands on his thighs and slant forward. "Then it's just blurred vision. That can easily be fixed."

"No. Not exactly." Wintlock stepped aside as the observation deck one-way wall erupted in a series of golden octagons to reveal the large patient room on the other side. "This is not a question of ametropia. She has some sort of blindness, but it's only to non-organic materials?"

"Non-organic?" Hux repeated as if the term itself smelt horrid. "That doesn't limit things very well, doctor."

Wintlock stepped aside. "It's not that absurd. See for yourself, sir."

In one large stride, Hux joined the doctor to look through the one-way transparent wall at the two patients inside. Sound proof and silent. "Look at them. Polar opposites."

Kylo sat hatefully on the edge of his gurney, hands on his thighs and elbows outward. He watched the staff move about with caustic eyes. An apparent warning signal. In one acidic glance, he basically broadcasted to every officer in the room that he'd choke them if they got unnecessarily close. An obvious, acrid introvert.

Even with his hair dripping wet and black uniform open exposing his bandages, he still appeared imposing. And the staff obviously felt the effects. They made wide circles around him, except the single shaking medical technician unlucky enough to lose the staff draw. The freckled man tended to the silver-impregnated bandages on Kylo's chest. Apparently, he was doing a good enough job not to get himself killed.

On the other hand, the princess was enveloped in a sea of eager grey coats. Smiling and laughing, she perched on the edge of a gurney opposite to her nephew, shrouded in a physician's charcoal coat and trousers much too big for her small frame. Her feet and hands were wrapped in silver bandages. Her face clean and radiant. Her long wet hair tumbled down in wild tangles to pool on the gurney behind her.

"Why are they wet?" Hux frowned.

"We had to clean them up," the doctor explained matter-of-factly, "they were covered in blood and filthy."

Hux shifted his steely eyes to him. "How were they cleaned, doctor?"  
"You mean to ask, 'how was _she_ cleaned, general?'" Wintlock intimated at the source his superior's dangerous glare. "I called in Captain Phasma."

Hux cleared his throat. "Good." He stumbled over his thoughts. "Good."

"Although the Captain did her duty, she complained the entire time about not being a nursemaid," Wintlock chuckled then turned serious, "You probably should hire some ladies-in-waiting for the princess."

Hux tugged at his collar. "Of course." He glanced back at the princess, expression softening with veneration. "Whatever she needs."

Wintlock watched the absorbed general. "A new wardrobe?"

"Of course."

"A new set of feminine quarters?"

"Certainly."

"A new ship?"

"Absolutely," Hux gawked at how the princess tilted her head back in a laugh.

Beautiful. Bright eyed. The princess smiled, crinkling the edges of her eyes and brightening the room. Several pining crew attended to her every need, and she smiled and nodded at each one of them. A complete opposite to Kylo Ren. Her attitude was warm and inviting, appreciative and cordial. A obviously pleasant extrovert.

But as she looked at the men, one could easily tell there was something strange about her eyes. She glanced in the general direction of the technicians, not at their faces, and she continually reached out to touch every one of them on the shoulder, chest or arm. Not that they minded the touch. Her bandaged little hand melted them with her delicate pats. And they pandered over her when she quickly retracted her hand wincing over her injured fingers. But it was obvious that she was compensating for a discrepancy in her vision.

Dr. Wintlock folded his arms. He raised his scar-split eyebrow at the distracted young general. "And get her a new world?"

Hux barely heard him, attention on the princess hiding her face behind the overly long sleeves of her her borrowed jacket playfully. "At the first chance."

"A new bantha to run wild through the halls?"

"Absolutely."

The old physician chuckled at him, shaking his head. "Ah, love. To be young again."

Hux felt his heart rapidly beat against his chest wall. "She's simply breathtaking," he whispered out-loud. "Her genetics must be flawless. Even despite her blindness, she's almost perfect."

"She's sweet too," Wintlock commented with a proudly parental smile, "Truly sweet. Happy. Kind. Perfectly polite and nice. Always saying thank you and please," he listed as the princess tottered off her gurney gingerly walking towards her nephew, "Never demanding."

He shifted his eyes to the young general with a chuckle, "My men argue over who will attend to her." He leaned towards him, stoking the odds. "She has an amazing affect on people. Obviously a good political match—"

Hux didn't return his gaze. "But she's blind." He dropped his eyes to his fists. "My father—"

"The blindness is only to synthetic materials, sir," Wintlock said swiftly, "Not something the Grand Admiral would completely disapprove of."

"You don't know my father like I do." Hux's expression darkened. "He does not tolerate any weaknesses: survival of the fittest, remember." He pierced his lips into a blanched line. "Her disability will be… more than frowned upon."

"Disability?" Dr. Wintlock felt his left eye involuntarily twitch. "In time, general, she may be able to see the universe even better than you or I?"

Hux scoffed. "She's blind, doctor. It's obvious, that she's blind."

"Observe a little closer, general," Wintlock said, "see the way that she's staring at the men's cores. Her eyes follow them. Even though it's not their faces, she'll look at the edges of their heads or at their chests. Not a complete blindness."

"And this is supposed to satisfy Grand Admiral Hux and the Supreme Leader Snoke, how?" Hux questioned.

"Just watch, general." The aged doctor spotted a phlebotomist carrying his kit, following the man's weaving through the staff towards the blonde princess. "Here comes a good example."

The hawk-nosed phlebotomist unfolded a bundle of beige cloth next to the princess to expose a set of plastic tubes. She quickly turned her head to the bundle, curiously snatching the fabric underneath the tubing. To the man's dismay, his tubes went flying. The princess jumped startled at the sound of them hitting the metal beside her.

"Linen," Wintlock explained, "it's made from a plant. She saw the linen but not the plastic."

"How is this proof?" Hux shook his head disbelieving. "A person cannot plausibly see some items and not others."

"Like I said before," the aged-doctor explained, "her eyes are fine. They react to light, but something is altered in the occipital lobe of her brain. Her midichlorians have increased in that portion of her cortex, stimulating different neurotransmitters in her pathways that process visual information." He leaned his hip against the console. "It's unlike anything we have seen before."

"So, she has a brain injury?" Hux threw up his hands. "Perfect."

"Not exactly," Wintlock surmised. "I wouldn't define it as a brain injury, general. Of course we have never seen anything like it and there is nothing in the medical archives either," He scratched his scar, "but there was one account from over 175 years ago depicting a case of lost eye sight in a jedi knight."

"A jedi?" Hux nearly spat the distasteful word.

"The man was a 24 year old Coruscantean human that lost his eyes in a battle with a sith. His blindness resulted in an increase in his extrasensory perception, known as the 'sixth sense' or the 'third eye.'"

"Third eye in a human? How preposterous."

"I agree, but the researchers reported the experiments in extensive detail surrounding his responses to different visual stimuli. They noted his subjective visual descriptions as colored electromagnetic fields surrounding people, animals, plants, and anything involving natural planetary elements. He could fundamentally," Wintlock lifted his fingers in quotation marks, " _see_ anything and everything that wasn't synthetic."

"As in, anything with a midichlorian count," Hux surmised.

"Exactly," Dr. Wintlock picked up a data pad and handed it to his superior, "Review their results. His vision was reported to even superseded expectations. With a single glance, he could visually perceive the emotional states in others."

Hux slid his finger up the screen, moving the data. "They utilized his skill in multiple…" he didn't bother to hide his flat aversion, "peace talks."

"And in crushing military campaigns," Wintlock added.

The general brightened. "Promising."

"Of course, I had believed the report to be a foolish hoax even despite their extensive data, but after the princess began describing similar perception phenomena—"

"You realized that there must be a factual parallel," Hux deduced, gazing back at patient room. "Perhaps, in her case, not actually having lost her eyes, this disability will be only temporary, while the newly found skill will remain."

"That and the fact that her brain can compensate for any injury is a sign," Wintlock clasped his hands behind his back, tilting his upper body towards the general, "of…superior neuroanatomy."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Hux's mouth. "Yes. Of course. It is superior."

The doctor opened his hand to the obs room, "And there is your proof, sir."

Hux studied the princess walk grimacing at each of her own painful steps. In the silent display, the princess reached out her bandaged hands for her nephew. She laughed when Kylo's expression softened in response. A small square droid buffed the floor between them.

"Observe how she can see him, just not the non-organic droid in front of her feet," Dr. Wintlock described. "Exactly the same as the test subject 175 years ago."

"She'll injure herself." Hux gasped, ready to grab the comm control.

But before he could hit the button, Kylo lifted his hand, telekinetically throwing the sweeper droid from out of the princess's way. It flew towards a paramedic. The bug-eyed man ducked, and it crashed into oxygen tubing behind him. A fire exploded. Red lights flashed as two crew members scrambled to spray the fire out. Warning sirens sounded, even in the observation room.

With an exhausted sigh, Dr. Wintlock hit the comm button. "Fire in sick bay M-4N–6."

"Understood," an audio-filtered voice erupted in response.

He shut off the channel, turning to the general. "That boy is going to be the death of us all." He shook his head. "I still can't fathom how Lord Ren and the princess are even related, no matter how little the percentage of genes they may share."

The princess watched the crew put out the fire, curled in Kylo's chest. He patted her on the head, smirking.

"I'd say they were quite endearing together," Wintlock made a cold face, "but there is nothing endearing about a sith. Never was fond of dark force worshippers. They ruined too many dutiful officers' lives on their dark whims."

"Technically, doctor," Hux said warningly, "the princess is a sith."

"No, general," Wintlock replied, "she never was. She never toiled with the dark arts, and her father hid her away on Grand Admiral Thrawn's ship to make sure of that fact."

"Grand Admiral Thrawn's?" Hux dropped his military decorum for a moment of fandom, "She actually knew the infamous Grand Admiral Thrawn? The Chiss national that was such a military genius that he held the entire New Republic armada at bay! The only non-human to achieve the highest rank in the imperial armada."

The princess lifted her head and turned to look through the one way observation wall at them. She beamed at them and waved.

Waving his fingers back at her, Dr. Wintlock spoke out the side of his mouth, not that she could hear them through the observation deck, "The princess can see us, general… through the wall."

"The stories she must have," Hux ignored him, too excited. "Surely, she must have witnessed at least one of his campaigns."

Kylo glanced down at her, then followed her eyes. A frigid anger flooded his features.

"Mother of moons," Dr. Wintlock knew that look. He put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "General, I highly recommend that you duck."

"What?" Hux blinked at him then at the patient room.

In a flash, the knight of Ren lit his lightsaber and chucked the red saber at the flimsy observation wall. The two men ducked parsecs before the lightsaber shot into the obs mechanism shattering it into a torrid spray of sparks.

The observation film crumbled, exposing the observation deck. Crew members popped up out of their hiding places to stare at the two men crouched behind the console in the deck.

Kylo glared at them icily. "Good evening, General. Doctor."

"Technically," Dr. Wintlock straightened himself along with his uniform, "it is the morning shift, Lord Ren."

With a slit of his eyes, Kylo curled the corner of his mouth up in a shady smile. "My mistake."

Apple covered her face with a bandaged hand, hiding a chuckle. "Did you just break their wall-machine?"

"I don't appreciate being stared at like a laboratory specimen," Kylo replied, brutal eyes still zeroed on Hux. "It makes me crave killing some people." His breathing rate increased with his hatred.

"Kylo," she pouted, fixing his uniform tunic in delicate patting motions, "what have I told you about killing people?"

He grudgingly removed his glare from the general to turn a softer expression on her heart-shaped face. "Don't kill people in your presence," he answered in a disappointed grumble.

"Yes," she made a face, "It's gross." She finished fixing his uniform then kissed his cheek, then quipped, "Next time, wait until, I'm out of the room."

The storm in his eyes disappeared in an instant and his cheeks colored. "Naturally."

From the obs deck, Dr. Wintlock gaped, whispering, "The princess just effectively pacified the devil's anger."

"She kissed his cheek." Hux gaped for another reason.

The physician knit his brow at his younger superior. "And that is all you discerned out of this experience?"

He scanned the destroyed observation deck controls, sparking walls, and chasmal singed hole. Inside the patient room, oxygen panel in the patient room incinerated and smoking. Blackened electrical outlets trickled with crackles of exposed currents.

"With all due respect, general—"

"She kissed him," Hux ignored the damage, face flushing and fingers tightening into fists, "so causally. So soon. Do they even know each other?"

"He is her nephew," the aged doctor replied then bobbed his head, "even if the shared genetics are limited, she still sees him as her—"

"Just tell the princess," Hux cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, "I would like it…"—cleared his throat a second time—"if she were to join me for dinner at 1800 hours. I will not let him upstage me."

"You should probably ask her yourself, sir."

"No!" Hux stepped back away, eyes wide, "No. I believe…" He backed away a few more boot lengths. "…it will be better coming from… someone she knows… like you, doctor." He backpedaled more. "Not me. I mean, if I directly look into those eyes of hers, I—" he shoved his knuckle into his mouth to prevent anymore unfiltered words spewing out. "Blast it all."

With that, he shot out of there quickly. The doctor opened his mouth to call after him, but instead closed it and just shook his head. "He doesn't stand a chance." Stepped over charred debris, he followed after his superior.

"I have to admit, that was a pretty good shot." Apple scooted back onto the gurney next to Kylo. She swooped her hand in a wave, teasing, "Although you could arch it a little higher, and angle it more for an extra whirl."

"Are you giving me throwing advice?" Kylo asked slightly amused, hand still touching his cheek where her lips had been.

"No," she laughed, "I throw like a girl. I just like the light show the saber gives off."

He chuckled despite himself.

She grinned blithely, "It makes a pretty rainbow effect that I can see." She whispered, vulnerably, "I like things that I can see," forcing her self-pity aside, she returned to her humor, "Fwoosh. Vwoom." She made the lightsaber sound with her mouth. "I could watch that again for hours."

"I'll obtain it for you on playback." Kylo smirked at the thought of the unsteady general, "and I believe I would also relish watching that over and over again."

"But next time, don't try to kill my baby doctor."

He snickered, rubbing his eyes, obviously tired. "Yet the general is fair game?"

"Mmmm," she mused playfully, "Nah. I think I like him. He's endearing."

"Endearing?" Kylo's black eyebrows shot up, features shadowing slightly.

"Apparently, he's a Grand Admiral Thrawn fan," she whispered under her smile, "I find that endearing."

He sniggered. "Don't kill him because he's a fanboy?"

"Got to have standards," she said with a wry smile.

He burst out laughing, then hissed, catching his side.

"Careful," she placed her hand over his ribs, "you're still not completely healed."

He snatched her bandaged hand off his ribs, lifting it. "Apparently, neither are you."

"Your highness," Dr. Wintlock approached them, hands clasped behind his back.

Apple slipped her hand out of Kylo's grip to turn towards the sound of his voice. She beamed, "Doctor."

The aged officer coughed into his fist, uncomfortable. "General Hux has asked if you would like to have dinner together at 1800."

A couple metal trays behind Kylo trembled then crumpled in on themselves, with the intensity in the dark knight's blue eyes.

"I would love to," Apple smiled happily, "it would be wonderful to have diner with everyone."

"With everyone?" Dr. Wintlock gasped, dropping his chin and shooting his eyebrows upwards.

"Doctor," she reached for his shoulder, "I am so happy that you are here. It has been really…" she struggled to find the right words, "unnerving to wake up thirty years later, not knowing anyone. Thank you for being there and taking care of us."

She tenderly patted his arm, "And please tell the general how appreciative I am for his thoughtfulness in having us all dine together. I am impressed that he would be so sensitive to my…" She tittered at herself, eyes glistening sadly, "…lost situation by making sure I am surrounded by people I am closely acquainted with."

Dr. Wintlock opened his mouth then quickly closed it. "By all means, your highness." He bowed from the waist with an imperial click of his boots. "I will deliver your message, right away."

He went to leave.

"Dr. Wintlock?" She took a painful step to catch up to him, throwing her arms around his waist.

He lifted his arms, awkwardly, glancing down at her. Never having children of his own, he didn't know whether to return her hug or pat her on the head.

Nestling her cheek against his chest, she sniffled. Tears tumbled over her eyelashes. "Thank you." She buried herself deeper against his uniform. "You'll never know how much I needed to have you here."

The physician glanced up at the Knight of Ren. He looked anywhere but at the princess.

"I miss my father, Wintlock" Apple cried, lips trembling, "I miss him so much."

"I know, your highness," Dr. Wintlock patted her back clumsily. "I… uh..know."

"Please could you… could you send a comm to Grand Admiral Thrawn," she still clung to him, "I… I need to talk with him—" She stopped suddenly, lifting her head from his chest shaking. "He isn't alive either, is he?"

"No, princess," Dr. Wintlock didn't bother to hide his sympathy, "he was assassinated years ago. I am truly sorry, he was mourned greatly."

"Oh…" She nodded, slipping her arms from the doctor's waist numbly. "Oh…" She nodded again, staggering, "I understand."

Kylo snapped into action. Snatching her shoulders as she crumpled backwards. "She passed out." He cradled her small form against himself.

Dr. Wintlock bit down his retort of 'thank you Captain Obvious', "She's exhausted. And the emotional trauma has finally succumbed her."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Kylo smirked at him.

"You stole that from my mind, didn't you?" the physician folded his arms across his broad chest.

The Knight of Ren smiled cruelly. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"Nope." The doctor took the princess from him to place her on the nearby gurney. He checked her pulse, satisfied he glanced at her nephew. "She's fine, she just requires some sleep." He glanced at his timepiece. "Well, she's got nine hours to do it." He wiped his hands. "I suppose I'll see you at 1800." With a salute, he strode out.

 ********I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There is more to come... Please send in your reviews. I really appreciate your thoughts. If you like this story, please make a comment. Thank you tons!*******


	9. Chapter 9

****************This chapter has some of the slang used in the Star Wars universe… Keep in mind these phrases can be found in various Star Wars sources… a little more official than I typically run my fanfics, but I thought the slang was quite fun.*************

General Hux rested his elbows on the conference table. He tapped the tips of his fingers together. "Gentlemen, I am having a hard time understanding why it is taking so long to acquire an accurate readout." A dangerous glint darkened his pale eyes. "The impact analysis should have been finished days ago."

The point commanders glanced at each other. Seated around the table, they comprised the strategic leadership for the entire sector. If it had been the empire, a Moff would have governed the meeting, waiting until a periodic over-sector assemblage before briefing a Grand Moff on any sustained losses. This bureaucratic channeling would have afforded them a substantial amount of time to gather recon. But the First Order was strictly a military organization, and General Hux wasn't interested in an overarching analysis report combining with the routine narrations from the other planetary sectors. He demanded immediate response. And they should have been used to his hard-driving personality by then.

"We need to implement swift recovery actions," he flicked his eyes to their faces, "Prompt mitigation efforts should be our first priority. And without an accurate and comprehensive readout of the consistent actions taken before, during, and after the battle in the Unknown Regions, then we are at an impasse."

It was apparent by their hesitation none of them wanted to be the first one to discuss the destruction of their stronghold. Even without the Starkiller base, the loss of the quintessence energy was in its self a devastating blow to their infrastructure.

"Operations Section Chief," General Hux reigned their hedging in, singularity dragging out one man's title, "Captain No'ad," he shifted his attention to the spindly officer,"Report."

The officer's sunken cheeks and sharp skull lines gave him an even more gangly appearance when he opened his mouth to speak, "Our rigorous assessment of the navy's risk management framework, indicated that a," he swallowed hard, bobbing his large Adam's apple, "certain discrepancy had occurred between our presumed hazard vulnerability regarding the planetary shield and the actual… situation at hand."

"Yes. Yes," Hux waved a dismissive hand impatiently, "the destruction of the Starkiller base definitively verified an exploitable flaw" he enumerated, "The fractional refresh rate allowed for a single ship's hyperspace penetration," he straightened his gloves bored, "coupled with the fact that the sabotaged shield controls required an indeterminate time for technicians to address the service issues. Thus, the resistance were able to implode the entire planet! Do you all need me to reiterate the case for you?"

He inhaled frustrated. They were too mentally slow to comprehend the entirety of what information constructs he needed.

"What I am requesting here is a more accurate depiction of the anticipated risks and vulnerabilities that might endanger future campaigns. The resistance proved to be a greater threat than our—" He shifted his eyes to a nerved, round-faced officer at the far-side of the table, "—past reports indicated, because they were able to anticipate errors in our technology and judgement!"

A few of the men blanched.

"We are not going to just lick our wounds, gentlemen. We are the future of the universe," he articulated strongly, "The outcome of the struggle going on at present will also decided the fate of the galaxy. We are now engaged in a very severe battle to force an open gateway all the way to the outer rims." He lowered his hands, smoothing his palms flat against the table surface. "We cannot afford to be slack in our efforts just because the Republic may be wounded."

He surveyed the men's holograms. "Logistics section. Captain Silas, report."

"We are down 5 battle cruisers, 107 TIE Fighters, 33641 technical personnel, 54983 stormtroopers, 335 pilots…" Silas listed, keeping his elongated face steady. His large hooded eyebrows knit painfully, while he relayed their profound losses.

Hux watched his incident command staff for their reactions. He already knew the numbers well. The question was, what were the other men thinking and how would they respond to the changes that would need to be made.

A few of the other officers flinched as Silas catalogued the depth of their defeat, the amount of materials and supplies destroyed… the energy deficiencies sustained. Their reactions disappointed him. On the other hand, Captain Gei Kiore and Colonel Asme Dul'al became visibly angry. More promising. Kiore pierced his full lips until they were white and Du'al tightened his shoulders, flexing and straightening his gloved fingers.

Investigations Officer Captain Kiore was third-generation imperial military man, known for aggressive tactics and a brotherly love for his subrdinates. Hazel-eyed and blond, he had a sentimental boyish look to him. Publicly shy, he rarely spoke much unless it was necessary. Had he been present during the attack, his fleet would have fought to the last ship, because his hatred for the Republic was deep seated. After he lost his mother and a beloved sister on a civilian imperial transport during the Empire's last battle, he vowed to see the Republic's demise. Although the Republic's Public Relations Ambassadors adamantly claimed it was an accident—that the transport ship was mistaken for a supplies runner. Kiore knew better. He knew their lies.

As Silas continued to list the remainder of logistics issues, Safety Officer Colonel Dul'al set a deeper scowl on his face. A bulking black-skinned man with an open-sense of humor, he could drive thousands of men with a single glance. He was a charismatic leader and a loyal follower. The perfect military man. A cavalier pilot from the days of Grand Admiral Thrawn, he proceeded swiftly through the ranks, esteeming effective top-down leadership and creativity. An ingenious leader at keeping his men alive and putting the enemy in the grave.

Those two men were the only ones furious by the time Silas closed his statement, "…for a total of a 4.6 trillion credits loss." The others appeared visibly sick.

"So our men are numbered in terms of credits lost?" Captain Kiore commented stiffly.

Silence filled the room. Only the flickering of the men's holograms moved as their ships teetered on the edges of subspace channel. Tension high, the men's eyes shifted from Kiore to the general.

Hux folded his gloved fingers, waiting. He didn't have to wait long. Colonel Dul'al interjected as anticipated.

"At least our men can be equated as worth something valuable," the large-armed man smiled crassly, revealing darkly-caffeine-stained teeth, "the Republic lost five planets of people that weren't worth the change in my pocket."

The other men snickered.

"The Republic will pay for the loss of our men," Captain Kiore said through gritted teeth. It was apparent he wasn't responding to the Colonel's remarks. He was still trapped in his own previous thoughts, as he practically wrenched the fibers out of his left glove twisting the fabric almost to a snapping point. His anger was palpable. "They will pay."

"They did," Dul'al widened his smile, "they lost five mud rocks, the seat of their power, the majority of their military, and their entire senate."

More snickers.

Hux pierced his lips. "Gentlemen. Let us pause and reflect on the seriousness of this situation…"

The sniggering stopped in an instant. Men's eyes diverted to the floor or the walls. General Hux stared them down with an intenseness that lasted only a few moments before he wasn't able to hide his intended loftiness any longer.

With a slight smirk, he picked up his glass to raise it in a salute, "…Let us toast. To the Republic's motto, 'Long may we last,'" His smirk darkened, "and how well they kept faithful to it."

The men burst out laughing, raising their glasses. Silas and No'ad managed to rejoin in unison, "Here here."

"The Starkiller shot was a pretty good rancor roll," Colonel Dul'al chortled enough to twitch his pectoralis muscles as he raised his glass, "right through those farkled mud-rocks and onto the future of a universe without the Republic."

Kiore finally smiled. His second-in-command jovially smacked him on the back, oscillating his hologram.

"Could you just see them, screaming like stuck-mynocks," Dul'al said, raising his hands, mimicking a high-pitched voice, "We're going to die. Our pathetic lives are over! Then…" He made a bomb noise. "Pchoooo! Gone."

The others laughed.

Hux chortled, rubbing the tears from his eyes. "Now this doesn't change our course, gentlemen, just because the Republic suffered a mortal blow…" he struggled to regain his composure, "but one more time Colonel Dul'al," he flicked his fingers in a circle, laughing, "how was that again?"

The dark ex-pilot threw up his hands in a perfect rendition of whiney Republic kreetle, "Oh, crink! We're going to burnin' die!"

"That will never get old," Hux admitted, bursting into a new fit of chuckles along with the others.

He held up his hands, reigning in their humor. "Alright, men. Let's start with…" Another snicker snuck out before he completely composed himself, "concentrating on our own recovery functions. Our mitigation efforts need to be swift. We can't afford to slack in our labors. Even with the Republic crippled as it is, we still must hasten the war machine towards their total annihilation. Officers…" he paused with great emphasis, "we now have an imperial princess in our midst…"

Captain Kiore puffed up his chest.

"…supporting the First Order as the successor to the Empire." Hux shifted his eyes to each one of them individually before continuing, "For her honor and the honor of our families, we will ignite a flame that will not be extinguished. A flame that will burn the dross from the universe and establish absolute order."

"Sir!" The others saluted in response.

"Now…" He smoothed his palms onto the conference table, "we will proceed to debriefing on our last battle." He stared them down. "No blaming. No finger-pointing. Just the facts and resolutions of the issues at hand."

No'ad cleared his throat hesitantly. "General, sir, before we begin," he trembled nervous at interrupting his superior, "I… we all… have been wondering something. I know I am speaking for the majority of the men here when I ask, 'what is the princess like? Is she everything they say she is? Is she truly the granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine? Will she bring back the Empire?"

General Hux paused. The interruption was unwarranted for an After-Action Debriefing, but from the expectant looks in the men's eyes, he knew that the answer was imperative to their morale. And it was a topic that he found… refreshing.

"She is. She is the last true biological granddaughter of the great Emperor Palpatine," he answered then his focus drifted dreamily to his glass as he swished it in his hand, "The princess is beautiful, kind, always smiling…. the embodiment of all that is good and pure in this universe."

The men exchanged looks.

"I've only seen her out of cryo just today, but still, it's easy to discern that she's a woman of perfect moral character," Hux continued with a lost smile, "delicate and demure, that has this adorable," chuckled, "little prancing jump when she's happy about something…And her hair. It's this glorious color of lightened sunlight that you just want to reach out and touch…"

More amused eyebrows raised.

Commander Rokens coughed into his fist. "Sir."

Instantly snapped out of his reverie, Hux straightened himself. "The princess is the empire, gentlemen. I must protect her," he cleared his throat correcting himself, "We… We must protect her as we forge our way into the future."

"In a marriage between the First Order and the Empire?" Dul'al grinned, twitching his eyebrows.

"Exactly!" Hux snapped his fingers with a grin, then realized as the men smirked back at him, he was a little too unguarded in his responses.

"Sir!" Kiore shot out of his seat to salute him.

More salutes erupted around the room, "Sir!" Not a single man in the room did not stand in hailing him.

He beamed as they stood in firm salute. Their support took him back. They were openly backing him in a pursuit which may cause them to stand on dangerous ground with the Supreme Leader.

"At ease, gentlemen," he said, waving his hand down for them to sit. Their endorsement could be viewed by others as disloyalty to Snoke. He would be a striped Twi'lek before he would let that happen. Instead, he'd maintain they were saluting the First Order's progress, not his intentions to marry the future Empress.

Dul'al cracked a broad smile, raising his glass, "To the marriage between the empire and the First Order."

"To the marriage," the others echoed in unison.

Hux looked down unable to withhold a pleased grin as Commander Rokens slapped him on his shoulder in a congratulatory manner. "This salute is for the future of the First Order gentlemen. Always the First Order."

"Yes, sir!" They replied in unison.

"To the future," Kiore shouted with a stronger salute. The others echoed him. "To the Future!"

"Now," General Hux shook his head with a smile. He slapped the table in a visual change of subject, "let us focus on the current matters at hand, the mitigation efforts…"

The machinery deck's 5th hall was perfectly quiet except for an occasional droid rolling along its corridors. Kylo Ren chose the passageway purposely. After two previous floors full of crew members craning their heads to stare at Apple—the first token female on the ship since the general's harpy mother visited last year— and the princess's annoying politeness in stopping to engage every single laserbrain that spoke to her in conversation, Kylo considered it much less aggravating to take a longer but less traveled route. His irritation rose substantially with every additional adoring admirer and he couldn't afford to kill several hundred soldiers in front of his sensitive aunt.

But even despite his best efforts, no foyer was completely devoid of personnel. A four-man fireteam of stormtroopers rounded a corner. One glance at her and the soldiers stutter-stepped, verbalizing "woahs".

"Grand Vizier Mas Amedda?" Apple asked, strolling along with him completely unaware of her admirers.

"Dead," he replied, emphasizing the word with a death signal to the troopers.

The four men couldn't have scrambled out of there fast enough. The dark knight smiled behind his mask.

"I suppose I shouldn't have bothered to ask on that one. He was really really old." She tipped her head up at him, while her fingers gently held onto the nook of his arm.

Her touch was always soft or gentle or tender… He wondered where the dark side could possibly be in her.

She prattled on, "He looked like a big prune after a week in the Tatooine suns. Big horns, bags under his eyes and his wrinkles even had wrinkles. It makes sense that he is dead."

Kylo snickered. "Nice."

"Vizier Sate Pesage?" She continued, "The infamous Bald evil. Is he still alive?" She had avoided the whole discussion of her loss of Grand Admiral Thrawn and Darth Vader. Kylo itched to talk about his grandfather, but something prevented him from pushing her before she was ready.

"No," he answered.

"Janus Greejatus," she listed another Grand Vizier, "I'm assuming that he's dead too. He was so old when my grandfather was alive that I kept thinking he always had one foot in the grave and the other one on a slooper-peel. There is no way, he'd still be alive."

"They say, he died on the second Death Star when it exploded," Kylo recounted.

"You know, I warned them about building that thing…" she let him guide her around a corner. Her soft jeweled shoes padded soundlessly against the metal floor in ginger steps.

The crew had managed to find her a few silk and linen dresses from her shuttle that had survived decades of space decay. And fortunately they were able to be laundered enough times to remove the rank smell of death from their fabric.

This one was a pastel pink that emphasized the rose color of her lips. She pouted those lips. Kylo moistened his own behind his mask then glanced away.

"…I had a vision that it would be destroyed," she confessed, "but my grandfather was convinced that it would be the means of destroying the rebellion." She tipped her face down, "I was convinced that it would be the means of destroying the empire, but he refused to listen to me. Father knew it was the end though. He felt it, but he wanted to bring Luke back into the family." She shrugged, "he had hope that his son would return to him."

Kylo opened his mouth, ready to ask about his grandfather, but closed it. He could sense it wasn't the time.

"Four out of the seven known Viziers were supposedly killed when the Death Star exploded," he informed her returning to the previous conversation, "stories were continually told of the decisive battle on Endor."

"Your mother led the offensive?" She surmised.

He didn't immediately answer. "Yes."

"I called the Grand Viziers the 'funny-looking hats club,'" she quickly changed the subject, "Truly awful lot. I used to believe my imperial grandfather only kept them around for entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Kylo scanned the metal hall before them, guiding her away from a droid. "What kind of entertainment could old politicians possibly offer?"

"He enjoyed watching them bicker," she chuckled, expression lightening, "He'd sit on his throne watching the funny-hatted-horrors bicker, laughing at them the whole time. My grandfather found them quite…" she twitched her eyebrows, "comical."

"I'm sure." Kylo found himself smiling with her.

"Apparently, it's the little things in life that he cherished," she quipped.

"Bickering old people?" He jeered, "I can definitely see the amusement. Did they try to smack each other with their canes?"

"Now now, don't judge," she chuckled then recounted, "they weren't all old. One was young: the Vizier Verge. He isn't still alive, is he?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"Good," she said with such happy relief that it made Kylo do a double take.

"—he was a real tool," she whispered in such a childlike conspiring manner that it made Kylo laugh.

"I'm serious," she laughed, hardly a vision of seriousness, "He was a complete creeper. Nicknamed the psychopathic manchild for reasons, he looks—" corrected herself, "looked… and acted like a two-year-old rimmer."

Kylo laughed, his audio filtered voice giving a gruffer edge to his gufaw. He flit his eyes to the floor markers. The red and white indicator lights blinked in a characteristic pattern, indicating the security sweeps had just recently covered the area.

"Verge literally worshipped my grandfather. He was completely off his nutter," she continued, "He believed that my grandfather was a god and was convinced that even the slightest amount of failure was akin to treason. He suffered major meltdowns weekly. A total turd."

Kylo replied amused, "A total turd?"

"He tortured his best friend, because the man forgot a simple security code." She informed him, "that and he tried to hold my hand. Gross."

"Was it that he tortured his best friend or that he 'tried to hold your hand' that made him a," he quoted teasingly, "' _total turd_ '?"

With a laugh that crinkled the corners of her eyes, she nudged him with her side. "Shut up. You know what I meant." She nibbled on her bottom lip through her smile then asked, "If all the Viziers are dead then whom is left running the empire?"

"The empire no longer exists."

"No empire?" She furrowed her brow. "We're on an Impstar, aren't we?"

"An Impstar?"

"Imperial Star destroyer," she translated. "An Impstar."

"This is a ship fashioned after the old Star Destroyer designs," Kylo explained, "but the First Order is not the Empire. The Empire was crushed years ago by the Republic."

She played with the silk ribbon on the front of her gown. "But there are stormtroopers and I can sense an imperial structured hierarchy. There is…" she shifted her sightless eyes back and forth, her mind exploring the breadth of the battleship, "…a more militaristic manner in the minds of the crew, but every imperial ship has a different personality. I feel safe here, like I did on my father's ship. He had a flagship. And I can tell this is a flagship of sorts. I can sense the… importance that lies in the leadership here." She glanced up at him as though her blind eyes could see him clearly. "Just like with my father, I can tell your leadership is important here as well."

He regarded her proudly. "Your abilities with the force do you credit, Apple." He halted his steps to face her head on, "I could finish your training in the dark side."

Patting the black fabric of his sleeve, she tittered. "Thank you, but I'm not meant for the dark side."

"What could you possibly mean by something so absurd?" His anger incrementally rose, "you are strong in the force… substantially strong. I can feel it."

"Meh," she shrugged. "I'm too lazy."

"Too what?" He stumbled back a shocked step. His surprised turned to irritation."Are you laughing at me?"

"No."

"Are you mocking the dark side?"

"No."

"Are you a jedi?"

Apple smacked his arm with a tiny fist. "You take that back." She stomped her foot, bottom lip pouting to seconds later wince at the pain in her sole. "Oww."

He reached for her. "Are you alright?"

She swatted his hands away. "Yes and how dare you accuse me of being something so illegal? In my whole life, I have never done anything illegal or against the empire." She stopped, suddenly sheepish, "Okay, so there was that one time when I used the force to de-pants Vizier Verge on an imperial broadcast." She confessed then pointed her index finger, "But he had it coming and I swear to you, no one ever found out it was me."

"You de-pants'ed a Vizier…" Kylo found himself laughing, "…during an open imperial broadcast? How?"

"With the force."

"Let me understand this," he wrinkled his features, trying not to snicker, "you… the imperial princess… de-pants'ed a Grand Vizier with the force during an imperial broadcast?"

"Yes," her little voice became more diminutive in her guilt, "and he had knickers with pink hearts on them too."

Kylo threw his head back and laughed harder. "Nice!"

She smacked his arm again like a little girl, "it's not funny. Okay, so maybe it was, but I am a good girl, I'd never become a traitor like the jedi were."

Realization dawned on him. "You believe the jedi were traitors?"

"Of course," she replied. "They were blatant criminals. Interrogators were always hunting them for crimes of treason."

"Not for the fact that they were associated with the light side of the force?"

"What's the light side?"

His eyebrows shot upward. Apparently, he had more training in the jedi arts and understanding in the short time with his uncle Luke than she had in her entire life. She was raised to believe that the dark side was pure and that being a jedi was absolute treason. He smiled. She had a fortunate education.

Apple flapped her hand back and forth dismissively, "It doesn't matter. But if you call me a jedi again, nephew," she pointed her finger at him—or rather off a few inches to the left of him—mouth puckered in an adorable stink face, "I will disown you."

He dropped his head, shoulders shaking from laughter. "I see Darth Vader's predicament with you."

"The dark side is a guy thing." She composed herself. "Involving sweating, cursing, swinging lightsabers, chopping off heads, and smelling like feet. Not for me. Now shoe-shopping…" She hissed, stepping gingerly in stuttering step. "Oww… alright, I'm in need of a new softer pair of shoes."

"Your feet haven't healed yet," he grabbed her waist, supporting her, "I shouldn't have taken you on such a detour."

"It's alright," she hobbled, "I liked the,"—playful twitch of her eyebrows—"scenic route. Besides, I'm fine. You're the one with the worse injuries."

He swooped her up in his arms. "Not hardly."

"Put me down," she tapped her fist against his shoulder, "Are you crazy? Your ribs—"

Kylo grit his teeth. "Shut up. I do as I want." He cradled her in his arms. She was light and the force made her even lighter.

"So," she wrapped her arms around his neck with a diminutive pout, "I still worry about you."

He carried her into an elevator. "Level 6-B-2," he told the computer.

"You can set me down," she felt the lines of his mask, curiously trying to visualize it with her fingers.

"I do what I want."

"Why do you wear a mask?" She asked simply, "Father wore his because he couldn't breathe without it." She flashed him a wry look, "I don't believe you have that problem."

"I wear this mask to honor him."

Her eyes glistened. "Really?" She nestled her head in the nook of his neck. "You don't realize how happy you make me. I don't think I could handle it alone without you. I'd be lost."

His breath almost caught in his throat. "You are Darth Vader's daughter," he managed to squeak out. Fortunately, his mask's audio-filter toned the high-pitch down into a more confident sounding grunt.

"And you are his grandson," she said proudly, "A tribute to his name."

He set her feet down and turned her shoulders towards him. "Tell me about him. About my grandfather. I must know everything." He studied her face. His gloved fingers found their way entangling in the light curls around her face. He brushed the locks away from her mouth. "Everything."

The elevator bobbled to a a stop before the door hissed open.

"Look, it's the princess!" A star struck officer announced.

Kylo Ren glanced up sharply as a crowd of officers piled in the small elevator with them.

"Can I take a picture with you, your highness?!" A red-faced, dark eyed officer blustered.

"Can I have your autograph?"Another face-less wonder blubbered.

The crowd of eight officers piled in. Apple smiled at them, nodding her head regally as they snapped selfies with her. The elevator door closed

A vein in the side of Kylo's temple pulsated. His nostrils flared.

Twin-appearing officers draped their arms over her shoulders and snuggled in close as a hook-nosed officer took their picture.

Flashes popped. Recordings ran. The men posed with her in picture after picture.

"Can I have a lock of your hair?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Do you like nerfback riding?"

"Can I take you to the mess hall sometime?"

"Do you like streamlines? Would like to watch one with us tonight?"

"Can I have your inbox number?"

Kylo stretched and curled his fingers slowly into fists. He held up a fist. The force lashed out in a blast. "Shut up!"

On level 6, a muffled jostling noise erupted from the elevator core shaft. A small stormtrooper strike tream, snapped their attention to the reverberating elevator, laser guns ready.

The elevator door hissed open before them to reveal several officers laid sprawled on its floor unconscious around Kylo Ren and a bewildered princess's feet.

"By the eternal core!" One of the troopers blurted before stopping himself.

The dark knight turned his mask dangerously towards him. "Got a problem?"

"Nope." The trooper took off running.

"Anyone else, got a problem?" Kylo asked, opening and closing his fists.

"No, sir. No, sir." The stormtroopers hustled out of there, almost stumbling over each other in their efforts to get away.

Kylo snatched Apple's wrist and stormed out, pulling her behind him.

"What was that all about?" She asked almost tripping over one of the unconscious officers.

"I don't like pictures," Kylo replied, "No one ever can catch my good side."

 ********Please submit reviews. Your thoughts are appreciated.********


	10. Chapter 10

Kylo carried Apple into the officer's conference lounge. He would rather have avoided the area entirely, but the princess insisted on keeping her dinner engagement with the general…Much to his chagrin. The lounge was small, cozy, and had an open glass window peering into the conference room. It was designed as a so-called 'green room' for waiting dignitaries. In other words, it was designed to be an ostentatious embellishment for pompous politicians. Kylo despised the very idea of it.

Dark plush couches, rich decor adornments, a wet bar, perfectly polished serving droids, and a hidden kitchenette with platinum-plated servingware, it was in one word, florid. The one only good thing about the lounge was that it had oddly detailed lighting system that keeping it lit made it relatively dark enough as to not cause a distraction to those in the adjoining conference room. A true VIP's paradise. Quiet, private, and secluded from the rest of the crew. That made the trip worth it. He was beyond tired of the princess's drooling fans. And killing all of them, started to get a little dull.

Shifting Apple in his arms against the tiny nag in his left ribs, he surveyed the meeting through the glass window. The speakers were off, leaving the unfolding After-Action-Meeting in perfect silence. Which Kylo didn't mind either. The subordinates appeared to be bickering with each other like ra'o beasts for scraps of food. Not particularly entertaining. Not boring either.

"There is a considerable degree of tension emanating from that room for only two people, Kylo," Apple commented, arms wrapped around his neck. Her blind eyes stared through the window at the only two men physically in the room. "And why are they silent?"

Kylo frowned behind his mask. The princess could see the two men, but not the wall separating their room from the lounge, nor the number of officers broadcasting via imaging systems from various ships.

"There are fifteen in that meeting," he replied, taking a small amount of pity on her curious blindness, "the majority of them are engaged in it as holograms."

"And they are silent?"

"They're in another room with the speakers off." He padded down the carpeted steps towards the couches.

Apple blushed, embarrassed. "Oh." Her eyelashes fluttered as her voice became more diminutive, "I'm still having a hard time getting used to my… blindness."

"Your blindness," he set her down on the biggest half-circled couch, "is superior to non-force users' sight."

"Now, you're just flattering me," her mouth smiled although a slightly sad expression glinted in her eyes. He paused there for a moment. Wide and dilated, her light bluish eyes had a way of drawing a man in.

He lingered just long enough to reach his mind out to hers. A mixture of curiosity and sadness ebbed on her thoughts but that was as far as his telepathic probing could get. She was the most mentally resistant person he had ever come across—even more so than that Rey girl whom had struggled her hardest to resist his intrusion. Something told him that Apple on the other hand, wasn't even trying to hold up a wall. Her mind was just…powerful.

"Now don't be jealous," she teased, expression lightening. "I sense your wonderment at my mind." She patted her dress, smoothing it subconsciously with her palms. "If you lived around my imperial grandfather, you too would have a mental barricade that would put the Arkanis Academy to shame."

He sat back on the coffee table in front of her, shoulders slumping part from exhaustion and part from disappointment, "I will never be strong enough."

"Nonsense," Apple said as she wiggled her tush to situate herself more comfortably on the couch. "You're a lot stronger than you think you are. The force is really robust in our family." She ran her fingers along the cushion's fabric, distracted happily by it. "So soft, is this velvet?"

The dark knight furrowed his brow behind his mask, impatient. "I don't know. It's fabric."

"You are such a guy," she laughed, delightedly, "Knowledge of fabrics is important."

"Knowledge of the force is important," he corrected her, "and being the most powerful in the force."

Apple flashed a mock-consternating face at him, "don't give me that. You are powerful. You just don't understand how really powerful you are. Think about it this way: you can't be perfect at all things in the force. You are superior in force push," she telekinetically moved the wooden bowl of glass pebbles on the coffee table next to him, "and you're even more amazing at force pull," the bowl moved towards herself.

"Telepathy, you could work on, but for that, I blame your teachers. They must have lacked in that field themselves." She shrugged,"As for force healing? You're learning, thanks to me," she said with enough bravado to make him smirk, "and—" She stopped with painful hiss.

Apple quickly reached for her feet. "Oww… I think I overdid it today."

He dropped to one knee next to her and lifted the hem of her gown. "Your feet are bleeding."

"How badly? I can't see them," pulling her layered gown up to her knees, she blindly reached for her shoe ribbons. "I can see a pulsating red haze around them, but—" She winced when her fingers probed her left arch. "Ouch."

Kylo swatted her hands away. "Don't touch. You'll only make it worse." He folded her aqua colored petticoat away from her calves to get a better view of the wide ribbons wrapped tightly around her lower legs and ankles. Cutting into her skin, they had been the same aqua-mint color as her underskirt, but the princess's blood had turned them a dark purple.

"How bad are they?"

"Not bad, if you are congenial with soaking blood onto the carpet."

"Hmmm. So, that's why it felt squishy," Apple postulated, rather unconcerned, "Well…that's better than foot funk," she attempted to make light of the situation, "now, the idea of having foot funk had me worried." Her pained smile wasn't too convincing. "My shoes aren't ruined, are they?"

"Your shoes?" He unlaced the ribbons from around her calves. "I'm not interested in the fate of your shoes. You should've said something about your injuries. I thought your pain was from…" He paused in unwinding the thick ribbons. "…losing your father."

Distressed, Apple turned away. "A lot of it is. I barely woke up from a block of ice to find that its thirty years later. Everyone I knew is gone…"

Tears gathered at the rim of her long eyelashes. She blinked her eyes rapidly, and titled up her chin determinedly.

"Not everyone is lost," she told herself as she chewed on her bottom lip as if trying to find an optimistic solution out of her grieving, "Dr. Wintlock is alive. And you are here with me. And I can still sometimes hear my father's ghost…"

Kylo lifted his head swiftly, excited. "You hear Darth Vader?!"

"Anakin Skywalker," she corrected, turning her face back to his, not able to see her sad reflection on his visor.

A tiny tear managed to escape her resolve, tumbling down her cheek.

"And yes, I hear him," she said proudly, "He was the one that asked me to save you," small smile, "He led me to you… out in that cold forest, because he loves you."

"Loves me?" Kylo shifted his position, leaning closer to stare at her directly. "There is no room for love in the dark side."

Apple threw her head back with a laugh. Clutching her sides, she wiped the tear from her eye. "Kylo, I so adore you. I needed that, I really needed that," she sobered with a knowing-and-a-tad-too-condescending smile, "Love is the reason why father turned to the dark side in the first place."

"Not likely," Kylo ground his teeth, "he went to the dark side for power. He strove to be the most powerful sith in the universe."

"Who told you that?" She laughed, wincing at her feet. She stretched her fingers towards her ankle ribbons. "Obviously, whoever it was didn't know the real Anakin Skywalker."

Kylo pushed her hand away,"Stop." He unwound the ribbons quicker to remove her left shoe. Blood dripped through her bandages onto the floor. "These are—?"

Frustrated, he cut himself off and clawed the air to make a fist, unable to let go of what she said before. "And whom by chance is the real Anakin Skywalker, if he isn't the most powerful sith in history?"

"One, he wasn't the most powerful sith," Apple corrected him, "Darth Plagueis was. That man could manipulate midichlorians to create life. He even made himself some sort of quazi-immortal-being and was able to keep the ones he loved from dying—that was until my grandfather betrayed and killed him in his sleep, but eh, details," she settled back in her seat as Kylo hesitated in unwrapping her right foot to listen more intently.

She refocused herself, "And two, the story of Darth Plagueis's success was the real reason why dad chose the dark side in the first place."

"Success at manipulating midichlorians," he considered the idea himself, "Of course. It's brilliant. The true ultimate power is to manipulate the midichlorians themselves."

"No, that's not— Oh for the love of sith," Apple grumbled, then waved her hand rapidly as if erasing her words to start over, "That's a bad idea. Because the force always strikes back. And you've got it all wrong. My father turned to the dark side only in order to save the woman he loved, who was," she winced, sucking an intake of breath through her teeth as he pulled the final blood soaked gaze pad from her foot, "Padme Amidala, your grandmother."

"My grandmother?" He scowled. "Impossible. A non-force user woman moved the most powerful sith into action?" He thrust aside the notion.

"He loved her."

"Love doesn't bring power. If she was so memorable, then why didn't Luke or my mother have any real memories of her?"

"She died apparently during childbirth," she answered then reflected on her father's remorse, "Dad had thought he lost Luke along with her." She quickly corrected herself, "And your mother too, except he didn't know about your mother. But if he did, things between them would have been a lot different. He had been convinced by Jedi lies that she was his enemy the whole time."

"Why would he have cared whether my mother was his daughter or not?" Kylo ground his teeth, increasing the gravely nature to his audio-filtered voice, "She was a rebel. He did what was necessary to ensure the progress of the Empire."

She put her hand on his arm, steering it away from her feet. "You really don't know anything about my dad, do you? I'm assuming Luke was the one that told you that about him. Wasn't he? Or was it your mother?"

"They didn't need to," Kylo removed the bloodied bandages from her left foot, "the power of the dark side is beyond everything."

The skin of her toes had sloughed off with blood oozing from the newly torn flesh on her soles. "Your feet look really ugly. Do you want me to cut them off and replace them now or later?"

"Shut up," Apple pushed his shoulder back with a laugh. Composing herself, she patted the couch next to her. "Sit. I'm going to tell you the real story about your grandfather."

He glanced at her bleeding feet, shrugged, then plunked next to her.

With a mischievous grin, she kicked her legs up to lay her calves across him.

"What are you doing?" He bristled, lifting his arms away from her legs.

"You're not getting out of helping me that easy." She teased. "Fix my feet while I tell you about your grandfather."

He growled irritated. "Is this the conduct befitting a princess?"

"It is when, I'm trying to convince my nephew to baby me."

Despite himself, he chuckled. "You realize, I've killed people for less than this."

"Meh," Apple flipped her hair back with a confident smile, "you like me."

"Not that much."

"Don't lie, I'm your favorite person in the whole universe," she kicked her tootsies like a spoilt little girl, "now fix my feet." Gobs of blood flicked off her toes, splattering on them

"I just flicked blood on us, didn't I?" She asked flatly.

Kylo wiped the blood from his visor, "No. Not at all."

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

"I'm not concerned," he lifted his hand towards the wall. A panel opened to expose an emergency first aid kit. It flew across the room to his open palm. "I'm sprayed with blood at least once or twice a day."

"I thought sabers cauterized wounds."

"Not all wounds are caused by lightsabers."

She blinked her sightless eyes for a moment as he popped open the kit with his thumbs.

"The antiseptic in here is expired; It's star date passed four years ago," he complained, "The supplies clerks on this ship are moronic fools. Heads will roll."

She gave him the look. "You torture people, don't you?"

Sorting through the rolls of silver-impregnated gauze and derma-barriers, he shrugged. "Every once in a while."

"Terrorists?"

"Sometimes." He held up two rolls of derma-stimulant impregnated gauze, "blue or purple?"

"Is it pale blue or dark blue?"

"I don't know, it's blue."

"Is it a pretty blue?"

"It's blue," Kylo repeated firmly then examined the sterile packaging, "what difference does it make? The directions say," he read out loud, "it is made of nitride-alginate biomaterials guaranteed to complete derma-regeneration in less than 96 hours."

"The shade of blue makes a massive difference." She bent her knees to lean over them, sinking deeper in the couch's cushion. "Does it clash with my dress?"

"Your dress is pink and blue." He held up the package, wagging it at her. "This is a blue healing wrap. Wear it." He grit his teeth impatiently, "Or do you want to walk around with bloody feet?"

"Well…" She leaned back on her elbows, stretching herself on the couch and pointing her injured feet. "At least, it's not purple. Alright, fix me." She wiggled her toes.

He opened the packaging in a huff. "Has anyone ever mentioned to you that you're spoilt?"

She grinned, entirely unrepentant, "All the time."

He smirked amused, despite himself.

"When you torture people, do you hate your job?" She asked suddenly.

His smirk dropped. "I thought we were going to talk about Darth Vader." He telekinetically lifted her left leg to wrap her foot.

"We are," she folded her gown modestly around her knees. "He really didn't enjoy torturing people. It was an—"

"Ends to a means," he finished for her.

"Exactly." She sat forward to wrap her hands around her calf, steadying it for him. "Dad often mentioned that too."

He smoothed the end of the wrap; the fabric spread out and sealed over her ankle. "People have information that I need," he eyed her as he reached for the purple gauze, "and I take it. Simple as that."

"Don't even think about it," she warned him, "you put that purple on me and I will beat you."

He chuckled. "How'd you surmise?"

"You knew." She blindly poked at his helmet, "You should really shield your thoughts more."

"You should probably stay out of my thoughts more," he wrapped her other foot.

"Which one of you am I talking with now?" She asked, blind eyes innocently dilated. "You switched personalities again."

"Ben," he answered, "Kylo became exhausted with all the fandom you keep acquiring and wrapping your feet blatantly irritated him."

She waved it off. "Meh, learning healing skills is good for him. And as for the crew: I'm just a new item. They'll soon get bored and find some other obsession next week." She patted his shoulder, "but I am glad that you two are getting along and recognize each other as equals."

"Now, I didn't say that," he chuckled, "but where you are concerned, he prefers to be the one that protects you… He just can handle only so much of your optimistic perkiness before he wants to kill you."

She considered his words carefully, "That's fair. What about you?"

"I'm the one that wants to hear about my grandfather," he easily answered, "and the one that regrets our work." He eyed how her hair curled around her hips and poured over the edge of the couch.

His eyes flitted to her mouth. "I regret a lot of things."

Her brow furrowed quizzically then smoothed with a shrug of her shoulders. "Well, don't feel bad. Dad regretted his work all the time, unless the person ticked him off, then he enjoyed it," she replied thoughtfully, "and I mean really enjoyed it."

"I can relate." He smoothed the bandage. The gauze stretched itself to seal its edges against her ankle bone. "Finished."

"Ehhh," she teasingly complained, "I was enjoying the pampering. But I bet…" poked his shoulder, "you… are really… good at mani-pedis."

"Not for the universe." He shoved her feet off his lap and tossed aside the first aid kit.

"It was worth a shot." She grinned then popped around in her seat until she nestled cozily in the fluffy pillows. "Now the story about dad: He wasn't always a sith. Dad was a jedi long before I or your mother were born—Don't despise him for it though"— she gave him a straight look—"it was during a time when Jedi hadn't become terrorists yet. And he wasn't even born into the Jedi world then. Instead, he was born a slave."

"A slave?" The dark knight curled his lip disgusted. "That's absurd."

"Am I telling this story or are you?"

"Fine." He snapped, sharply turning his head away, "You may continue."

She smiled a knowing smile, "Welcome back Kylo."

He folded his arms moodily. "We're both here. I'm just not willing to give up the battle for this body."

"I missed you," she hugged around his neck.

His stiff posture melted and he slowly lowered his arms. "I'll kill you." Not entirely convincing even himself.

"Alright," Apple snuggled her cheek against his shoulder a few times before letting go, "but you have to wait until after I tell you about your grandfather…"

She perked herself up, ready to recite her juicy tale, "It all started, when a man named Qui-Gon Jinn required a part for his broken ship… and he brought a pretty young, servant girl into my dad's—your grandfather's slave-master's shop. Or at least, they _thought_ ," she emphasized, "that the girl Padme was a servant. She was actually a beautiful queen in disguise…"

Kylo groaned. "By Alderaan's ghosts, please say you're not going to tell a love story."

"Oh," she relished his frustration devilishly, "but I am, young apprentice. I am."

"If this story has some idiotic imbecile in it for comic relief, I swear, I will end your existence," Kylo grumbled.

"Fine," she pouted indignant, "I'll leave out Jar Jar Binks. No one really liked him anyway."

She straightened his tunic, "But I thought you were the one that preferred to protect me."

"I'd kill my own mother if she told me a story that irritated me."

Apple pondered it for a moment then shrugged nonchalantly, "Fair enough. I thought about blowing up the imperial senate with thermal detonators myself when father told me, Jar Jar Binks was made an Ambassador to it."

Kylo smiled behind his mask. "That's the most beautiful thing I have heard you say." He leaned his helmet closer. "I'm so proud."

"Don't be. They were duds."

His smile dropped. "Why did you have to disappoint me like that?"

 *******Please send in reviews. I know this chapter is short, but I have some more work to do on the next scenes... Thank you for reading! ******


	11. Chapter 11

"That is considerably different than what my parents told me about Darth Vader while I was growing up," Kylo pondered the situation seething. "And the Republic's history sites…" He trailed off his words, clenching his fist.

"I suppose history can be altered by victors to suit their perspectives," Apple drew her feet up onto the dark velvety couch wrapping her arms around her legs to rest her chin onto her knees. It was a childlike and doleful posture that she probably never would have taken in court, but he found it suited her.

She continued downcast, "…Even if it isn't true."

"The Republic's corruption has gone on long enough." Kylo ground his teeth as various items throughout the room trembled under his mental power. "The First Order will establish a future of justice and order. And history will reveal the true power and honor of our family."

She tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek on her knees and reached out to pat his forearm in tender strokes. "You know what I like about you. You make me feel better when I'm concerned about something. You're loyal to our family. And I can talk to you about father without you being jealous or judgmental. Other sith envied him, while non-force sensitives feared him," voice mournful, "And apparently the Republic villainized him on the history sites."

The jittering of inanimate objects around the room ceased. He regarded her hand on his arm for a moment before haltingly covering it with his own. "Darth Vader was a visionary. We will rewrite history." He slipped his hand off hers as he glanced away. "My parents never would admit to the truth of what you have divulged… not even Luke. They were so pro-Jedi and the Republic."

"They probably just didn't know," Apple tried to assuage his feelings, explaining further, "my father told me the story himself when I asked him where Luke came from. Your parents didn't have that one-on-one opportunity."

She interrupted herself, touching her bandaged fingers to her lips, "Although at that time, father must have thought that I was asking him about where babies come from, because he first launched into a very awkward epilogue on why I shouldn't date until I'm forty and how all men everywhere are skirt-chasing-Hut-spawn."

Kylo dropped his head with a chuckle.

"But," Apple held up her index finger, returning to her original apologue, "in the end, he revealed to me personally everything that happened in his life. Because of the jedi, he was prevented from saving his mother, lost his wife, and was kept from knowing that his son was even alive," her shoulders scrunched and her head lowered heartsick, "And then after all that, he is now criminalized in Republic history?"

Their conversation weighed heavily on Kylo. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he shifted his body forward to lean upon his thighs. "This whole time, I hadn't understood the depth of his struggles."

Apple slid her legs off the couch so that she could wrap her arms around him comfortingly, "That's alright, you know the truth now. And you two are a lot a like: Alone in your struggles. Strong in the force." She looked upward with a teasing smile, "Moody."

He regarded her flatly, "funny."

The princess chuckled then hugged his shoulders in a playful shaking motion, "you know what I mean, Kylo." She placed her chin on his upper arm, "we're family. We share things together and we support each other. And we have a lot of force traits in common."

Kylo turned his head to her slowly, "Such as the dark side?"

"Well, that's not really a feminine thing," Apple bit on her bottom lip, daintily, "I prefer the balance, but you men engage in the dark side things and swinging lightsabers," her lips broke into a smile, "And father was amazing with lightsabers."

"But you're not against me seeking power in the dark side?" He asked earnestly, turning his entire upper body towards her.

"Why would you ask such a question?" Apple furrowed her brow.

"My mother sent me away to learn from Luke because she feared the dark side and my admiration for Darth Vader. Instead my parents wanted me to be like my namesake, Obi Wan Kenobi."

Eyes widening, Apple sat back in her seat with a troubled gasp, "I just can't believe…" her eyes teared up, "your parents raised you to revere the traitor Obi Wan and disparage my father. What was wrong with them?"

"I feel so deceived." Kylo dropped his head, then growled fiercely, "Always judging and they were far from perfect themselves," he spat, "they spent every waking moment arguing, and my mother's work always came first. Then my father ran off. A smuggler, he had more debts across the galaxy than there are body parts in a saarlac pit. And he left us to pay them off, while he went joy riding across the outer rim."

"That's horrible." She rubbed her hand in a circle soothingly on his back.

"It makes me incredibly angry." He pounded his fist on his thigh as his mind threw the coffee table over.

"Come here," Apple pulled him into her arms attempting to rock his much bigger-than-her-form, "Tell your little aunt all about it." Unfortunately, her trying to rock him was as awkward as an Ewok rocking a wookie. Eyes wide, she could hardly budge his much larger physique. "Erp."

"They spent my childhood telling me lies about the one powerful and honorable man in the family, while they esteemed Obi Wan at every turn." He opened up, his words garbled in his despair. "Now… I don't know what to believe. …If I was stronger in the force, I would have sensed the lies long ago."

"Kylo, you are very strong in the force. You can't blame yourself; Maybe they thought what they were saying was the truth…" She patting his back to comfort him. "And if they thought it, then you wouldn't sense lies technically. That wasn't a lack of the force on your part; It was just a lack of true knowledge on theirs. Maybe they just got things off the Republic net or some false source that they trusted."

"They felt that way about Darth Vader from before I was born." Kylo glowered, then realization dawned on him. He shifted his eyes to her, "Luke was going to join the imperial academy until he met his jedi master."

"Who?"

"Obi Wan Kenobi."

Apple froze, stiffly. "Well…that's… that's…" She scrunched her face upset but unable to find the words to express it.

"Jedi and Republic lies have cost our family much," Kylo took the words right out of her mouth.

"Exactly," she said then strained to crack a half-smile for his benefit, "But at least you know that you weren't lacking in power nor were your parents lying to you. It's all that awful Jedi's fault."

The dark knight slammed his fist down on the couch's arm, crushing it. Tufts of springs and foam popped into the air. "If I was stronger, I would have kept up our family honor with the deaths of our enemies earlier. All jedi will die for this."

"Kylo," Apple said gently, reaching out her searching fingers for his helmet. Finding the release on his visor, she opened it, "look at me with your real eyes."

The visor snapped up with a hiss to expose his face. She telekinetically removed it from him, while she gingerly wiped the sides of his face with her bandaged fingers. Although she couldn't see his face, his skin was wet either from perspiration or from tears. His aura wafted disquiet and sorrow.

Apple turned his face to the side and kissed his cheek with a soothing mother's kiss. "Obi Wan betrayed our entire family."

She kissed his other cheek. "And you are not at fault, nor perhaps even your parents for falling for his treachery. But father ended him years ago; so he no longer can harm us. And instead of wasting your time hunting Jedi, just focus on pressing forward. Focus on the future, instead of the past."

She tilted her head back to proudly smile up at him as she would have done so praising her father. "You are your grandfather's legacy. You have no one standing in your way for greatness. No one. There are no Obi Wans here to betray you. No Republic now to stop you. And I am here to support you." She hugged him, curling her head against his chest. "I believe in you."

The dark knight enveloped her tiny frame in his arms. "Thank you for telling me the real truth." He entangled his gloved fingers in her blonde curls tenderly. "Where were you years ago?"

She looked up at him with a quirky smile. "Frozen. Father knew the Rebellion were coming so he had me frozen in carbonite to protect me."

Kylo's expression hardened, nostrils flaring. "The rebellion's descendants will pay for that. I will avenge our family's honor," His red tear soaked eyes blazed, "to the death."

The princess pulled away from him to fix his uniform, blindly. "You are a true tribute to your grandfather's memory—if anyone can uphold the family honor, it is you."

His anger softened.

She sympathetically turned her face down towards the carpet rods. "But I really am sorry that you had to hear from me about the lies fed to your parents. No wonder they served the rebellion and are now in the resistance. This whole thing has caused you and them some distress and my heart goes out to you."

"I don't need your pity," he frowned, bristling.

"Not my pity, Kylo," she made a face, "pity is for ugly people. You," she poked his chest, "my handsome nephew, instead have my love and support. Besides, we have shared a freakish mental-bonding experience where I witnessed first hand you having an epic battle with yourself. Nearly killed us both," she grinned with a whimsical flare, "but from what I saw there, I _knew_ that I could never pity you."

His frown morphed into an amused smile. "The dark side gains its power from hate and anger. You're making it hard for me to remain angry."

"Anger is for the battlefield," she smoothed her gown, "happiness is for the home."

He shifted away to glare at the rest of the room. "If only my parents, thought as you do. Things would have been different. I wouldn't have done the things that I had to do."

Apple didn't respond. Her silence surprised him. There wasn't a second when she wasn't chattering about something. But he didn't look at her—he couldn't look at her. Especially not at that moment.

Instead the dark knight flitted his eyes to the After-Action meeting in the adjoining conference room. The idea of it kept him grounded. Military officers conversed adamantly, some with austere composure, but all the sounds of their boisterous interactions were absorbed in the auditory buffering.

Through the transparent polymer window, he could see Hux standing to pace before the holographic officers, giving another one of his dynamic speeches. The general was a first rate orator. And from the expressions on the men's faces, he could see that this incidence was no exception to the rule. While the First Order was continuing on, Kylo's family troubles were tearing at him to stumble backwards.

The Dark knight clutched his fingers rolling them against each other to form a fist, saying after a long pause, "Now, only my mother and Luke remain in the way of my greatness."

"Kylo Ren, don't you dare get any ideas," Apple ventured lightly, "they are Skywalkers. They too are suffering because of other people's lies and prejudices. Neither one of them didn't know how much our father desired to change the universe for the better. They didn't know that he was the one chosen to balance the force."

The princess prattled on in a diminutive girlish voice as she played subconsciously with ribbon ends on her dress, "The Jedi were his real enemies. Corrupt women-haters that did everything possible to keep your grandfather and grandmother apart. And even worse, my father-your grandfather's"—she corrected herself for his benefit— "very own jedi master, Obi Wan Creepy-Kenobi not only betrayed him by chopping off his arm and both his legs and threw him into a lava pit to die. None of this was told to them."

Her sightless eyes lit with loyal fire. "Instead that horrible jedi just had to be the man to convince Luke and your mother to fight against their own father. And after he tried to steal their mother away, telling Padme lies about her own loving husband. Can you see it is not Luke or Leia that are in your way, just the memory of a dead criminal."

An almost audible gasp filled the air above them. The two of them looked around for a moment for the source then just shrugged it off as the officers' meeting played out in the adjoining room. Kylo smacked the side of his fist down on the speaker's controls a few times. "I thought I had turned these off."

—

" _Oh I'm never going to after-live this one down_ ," Anakin whispered with a grimace as he and Obi Wan watched them from behind the ethereal film, unseen even by their force-sensitive eyes.

Both spirits appeared as they were in their youthful prime, the age of their souls only reflected in twinkling mist around the edge of their aura fields. Except, the ex-sith's blue aura had an extra tinge of pink to it, wafting in and out of his core from embarrassment. He covered his face with a hand, sneaking glances at his companion's ever changing expression.

Obi Wan lifted an eyebrow at his once student, arms folded. "Interesting version of history you told your daughter there."

Anakin grimaced sheepishly. "I was frazzled when she started asking about… where Luke came from. I thought I had to give her the.… you know, _the talk._ "

"You had her believing her whole life that Jedi were scum _._ "

Anakin flashed him a wry grin. "To be fair, Jedi-scum was a real imperial colloquialism."

"And whom do you think started that saying?" Obi Wan was far from buying it.

"You can't prove that was me. There were a lot of sith in the empire that hated jedi just as much as I did."

"You told an innocent girl a load of banta fodder and now, she's passing it onto your impressionable nephew?" Obi Wan gave him the look.

"My story kept my daughter alive in the Empire _._ " Anakin refused to allow himself to wither under his ex-master's accusing glare. "She had to be an imperial, with imperial ideals. It kept her safe."

"You lied to her."

"No, I never lied to her…per se. _"_ Anakin shifted his stance a little uncomfortable, _"_ It was precisely how I felt at the time." He countered the jedi's glare with one of his own, _"_ I suppose that it is no different then you telling Luke that I killed myself. To this day, he believes I have homicidal-suicidal tendencies."

"You did have homicidal tendencies." The jedi master regarded him straightly, "you killed a jedi temple full of younglings."

Anakin flashed him a hateful look. "Am I to continually hear about that for all eternity?"

" _You accused me of having an affair with Padme?_ " Obi Wan narrowed his expression flatly, " _Your wife. I am a Jedi. We don't form attachments, especially not with other men's_ "—he emphasized again—"wives!"

"Lots of Jedis pulled a Bindo. I pulled a Bindo. Several in my class pulled Bindo's," Anakin folded his arms defensively, "You and the council just didn't know about all of them. And the good thing for them too or there wouldn't be a continuation of force sensitives, now would there?"

"That doesn't mean I," Obi Wan put a hand on his transparent chest, "would relive Padawan Jolee Bindo's exploits. He started a wife-chasing craze that nearly destroyed a generation of jedi."

Anakin twitched his eyebrows, "Yeah, I heard the stories."

"Not humorous, Annie," Obi Wan needled.

"And neither were your many rendezvous with Padme, Ben," he needled back.

"I was asking her help to get you see reason—to convince you not to go to the dark side."

"That's not how it appeared to me. It seemed a lot like an attempted Bindo-steal to me _,_ " the ex-sith defended himself, "I saw how you gazed at her. She was my wife!"

"I'll give you that she was a very beautiful woman, but she was preg-nant," Obi Wan emphasized the word.

"Exactly!" Anakin jabbed his index finger at him. "We both know how you feel about pregnant women, you pregg0-phile."

Obi Wan opened his mouth to retort then closed it with a salty smile. "Pregnant women are rather—"

"Don't say it _,_ " Anakin covered his ears, not that would help—they communicated by telepathy as spirits, "I don't need anymore corruption in my afterlife."

Obi Wan shook his head of the conversation. "Anakin, I never intentionally sought to take away your wife."

"You sought to take away my legs."

"You deserved that."

Anakin thought about it for a moment. "True. But that's not the point. I told Apple my story," he smirked, "from a certain point of view."

Obi Wan threw up his hands. "And here we come full circle once again." He regarded his once padawan, "Now we know where your grandson gets his relentless stubbornness from."

"No that's from his mother." Anakin smiled. "And she gets it from Padme."

Obi Wan turned back to the mortal world and squinted his eyes. "Huh? Did that young general just intimate that he was going to marry your daughter?"

"Whaaaattt?!" Anakin burst furious.

—-

An intense electromagnetic pulse struck the officer's induction area of the flagship in an instant. With a roaring screech, the lights in the meeting room erupted into a series of minor explosions. LED bulbs shattered. Control panels sparked. Pungent smoke poured out of them, filling the corners of the room.

General Hux gripped the edges of the conference table as the room shuddered, back up lights flickering on and off. The pitcher of water trembled on the table, jumping in a frightful dance a few times before tumbling over and shattering. A single H9T5 droid convulsed before blowing its top. With a "weeee-sputz", it died.

Officers started murmuring and whispering unnerved, except Dul'al that glanced around smirking as his hologram fluttered with static. The other officers' holograms blinked out completely before the backup generators rerouted.

"Ghosts," Rokens crouched, backing towards the door, teeth chattering on the edge of hysteria and wide eyes scanning the ceiling, "They're back."

"Enough!" Hux shot out of his seat. "Men get a hold of yourselves!" He reigned them in with a single look. "I will not have a mass panic over superstition." He opened his commlink. "Lieutenant Commander Ru?"

"Yes, sir," the man's Naboo-accented voice replied.

"We're experiencing an influx of power surge in the induction area of level 6," Hux relayed calmly. "Report."

"It was an unknown internal power surge, sir. No outside probes or ships within the vicinity. Scanners are 99.6% functional with no relay of transmission bing," Ru replied dutifully.

"And where is the Lord Kylo Ren, currently?"

"One moment, sir," he replied, then barked a muffled order in the background to another officer before returning to the mike, "Internal Monitors indicate his communicator is located within the officer's green room adjoining you, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander." Hux shut off his communicator and shifted his eyes to the uncomfortable officers before him, "Now gentlemen," he glanced over at the lounge's polymer window.

A shadowed image loomed in the darker adjoining room, holding a red lightsaber. "There's your ghost right there, gentlemen," Hux interlaced his fingers, leaning onto his elbows over the table. "There are no such things as ghosts, but there are knight's of Ren." He hit the speaker controls on his command chair. "Lord Ren, could you keep your destruction of priceless equipment down in there. We're trying to finish a meeting."

The shadowed image of Kylo Ren flashed him an obscene gesture before shutting off his lightsaber.

"And now that our ghost story has come to an end," the young general returned to the After-Action meeting, "Captain Dul'al. Report."


	12. Chapter 12

As soon as the first wave of the spectral impulse hit, the lights in the lounge blew, in a ripple of short circuits.

Kylo shot out of his seat, lightsaber ignited."Get down," he barked.

Apple obediently ducked, covering her head.

Serving droids shuddered, sparks erupting from their joints seconds before they exploded. Scraps of burning metal shot out into different directions.

Kylo threw out his hand. The metal debris froze midair, only inches before reaching them. He dropped his hand and the debris crashed harmlessly to the floor.

The dark knight waved his lightsaber, glancing back at Apple out the corner of his eye. "Are you injured?"

"No," she replied, uncovering her head with a relieved grin, "well, technically only my feet and," she lifted her bandaged fingers, "and my hands are. Other than that," she gave him two thumbs up, "I'm peachy thanks to you."

"Stay down," he ordered, "We might be under attack."

"Uhhh…I wouldn't exactly say that," Apple struggled for a good explanation that didn't sound as strange as it was, "I'd kind of recognize that temper tantrum surge anywhere."

He shifted his eyes to her, lightsaber not lowering even a bit. "What are you talking about?"

"Kylo," she gingerly felt around herself to gage how much debris surrounded her bare feet, "that was my dad. This," she made a circling motion with her hand at the room, "is my dad's trademark outburst of anger. But add a little spectral form to it and well…" she made a grimacing face, "it might just look like a battlefield."

The lightsaber lowered slightly. "Darth Vader's ghost was here?"

"And apparently," Apple lifted her eyebrows with a timorous smile, "he's really really upset about something."

Sparks erupted from the refrigerator as it exploded open.

"Here we go again!" The princess ducked as canned beverages shot out of it in all different directions.

Kylo's saber flashed, taking out a bottle of carbonated Ferio centimeters from the princess's head. Liquid sprayed the room.

Apple uncovered her head. "I know this feeling." She relaxed. "Father is upset somewhere."

"That was Darth Vader?" Kylo still held his lightsaber, scanning the area. "Lieutenant Commander," he spoke into his communicator, "Are we under attack?"

"No, sir," Ru stammered.

"Then what was that power surge from?"

"We… we don't know," the officer's voice trembled, "we were assuming it was another one of your—" he cut himself off.

"My what?" Kylo asked steely.

An audible gulping sound echoed over his commlink. "Episodes, sir," the lieutenant Commander's voice squeaks with fear.

"He has a point," Apple interjected, "You are a lot like your grandfather. And this was definitely him."

Kylo smiled despite himself then turned savagely to the communicator. "Send someone to clean up this mess now!"

"Yes, sir!" The lieutenant commander was obviously too grateful to be let off the hook, "Right away sir!"

Kylo flipped the communicator off with his thumb. "Weak-minded simpleton."

Apple chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that he's thinking of who he hates bad enough to send over here right now."

The dark knight lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh don't give me that look," Apple said not really seeing his peculiar expression but feeling his thoughts all the same, "You know they think you're on a sith-rampage right now and anyone that is sent over here is going to get killed."

The lounge's speaker blurped on with Hux's audio-filtered voice overhead, "Lord Ren, could you keep your destruction of priceless equipment down in there. We're trying to finish a meeting."

Apple bit her lip against a chuckle and opened her hand palm up as to say, ' _see_.'

The speaker crackled shutting back off with an annoyed slapping sound.

Aggravated, Kyo flashed the general an obscene gesture that he knew the princess hadn't seen and shut off his saber to attach it to his belt. "Good. Let them fear me."

"Way to take credit," she teased him with a laugh, then considered the situation studiously, "Something really must have ticked off my father."

"What do you suppose it was?" Kylo surveyed the mess. Shattered glass. Destroyed droids. Flickering and sparking lights. Broken bottles of drinks littered the carpet staining it red and blue. At least the tiny beverage fridge was still working, although its contents were scattered all over the room.

"I don't know," She went to make her way to him.

"Don't move!" He held out his hand as if she could see his gesture, "You'll injure yourself further."

With a flick of his wrist he mentally tossed aside the larger particles of glass, then padded over to her, his boots crunching the remaining glass and metal shards. "Can you imagine having this kind of power even after you are dead?"

"Meh," she shrugged, "I guess I've been around it so much, it seems like everyday." She called out, "Dad, if you can hear me, we're sorry we were talking about Obi Wan. If you want, we'll go find his grave and have a hut pee on it."

Kylo chuckled despite himself, "You have pieces of glass in your hair," he picked a few of them out of her blonde curls. "A hut pee on his grave? Where do you come up with these things?"

"I have a very creative imagination," she quipped.

"Very creative," he cupped the side of her face, "very creative indeed," he leaned towards her, "Are you sure that you are uninjured?"

"Yes," she replied, "you?"

"Better than I have been in a long time," his lips broke into an excited grin, "I just witnessed Darth Vader's power from the other side." He hugged her to his chest excitedly, "Can you envisage it?!" He picked her up and twirled her around. "I've been hoping for something like this my whole life. Waiting and hoping. Never before had he sent me any sign, and now," he set her on her feet to stare her in her sightless eyes, "he has finally spoken. It's remarkable."

Dizzy, she staggered. "Yes…" she mumbled dryly as she teeter, "it's really spectacular to see your dad's ghost practically blow up a room on a whim."

Apple grabbed his tunic to steady herself against his chest. "It definitely brings up the nostalgic feelings…" She puffed her cheeks against a bout of nausea. "…among other things. I take it Ben is back in charge of your body."

"Do you think he'll talk to us?" He scanned the ceiling. "Lord Vader? Can you hear us?"

"Yep, definitely Ben," she said to herself.

He looked back down at her. "How do we get him to talk to us?"

"We don't," she finally managed to steady herself, "he'll appear when he wants to. And talk to us when he wants to. I never ask."

Kylo opened his mouth.

"No," she pointed her index finger at him, cutting him off, "no conjuring the dead. No pendulums. No trips to the Mandalorian-mart for spirit boards. Things don't work that way."

He closed his mouth then opened it to somberly ask, "What do you truthfully suppose he was trying to tell us?"

Apple searched the room, only able to visualize sparks of energy on the surface of the furniture and flooring. She replied with a quirky smile, "That he was… uh…upset?"

"Humorous," he said, hardly impressed then chuckled despite himself.

With a chuckle, Apple took a pretend marching step. "How about I make us a pot of tea?"

"We have servants for that." He caught her waist, pulling her back away from the glass she was about to step on. "Apparently, you must really want to injure yourself more. Pay attention."

She squirmed in his arms, turning to glance back up at him. "One, princesses make tea for their equals, it's a court ritual. And two, I," her voice softened with her tiny pout, "have you to keep me safe from things."

He found himself hesitant to release her. Instead, he lifted his commlink to his lips. "Lieutenant Commander, have someone bring the princess a teapot and cups when you send the cleaners."

She blindly swiped for his wrist, bringing the communicator to her mouth, "My personal one please, the from my shuttle…" she smiled, whispering to Kylo, "I bet I can see Hapan porcelain," then spoke back into the mike, "and could you please include some different types of teas, thank you so much. You are much appreciated."

"Yes, your highness," the man stammered almost too delighted,"I'll bring them myself. Your highness, I am such a big fan, could you sign my—"

Kylo shut the communicator off. "Oops, the signal dropped."

—

Meeting adjourned, the officers holograms shut off one by one until true silence reigned.

General Hux leaned onto his elbows, wrenching his fingers against his mouth for a long moment. He reached for his glass. Empty.

"Another drink." He wagged the dry glass in the air before setting it aside… to rub his palms against his face.

A faceless-officer-as-far-as-Hux-was-concerned poured him a glass then left the new pitcher beside him before disappearing into the background.

Hux snagged the glass, throwing the drink back in a gulp.

"That went well." Commander Rokens plunked in the chair beside him with a shudder.

"Perfectly," Hux grumbled flatly, "Half the reports are missing. We're down two-thirds of our stormtroopers, not to mention technical personnel. One-third of the fleet is destroyed and unless we suddenly become galactic space pirates, we're not going to acquire the financial resources necessary to rebuild fast enough." He dropped his head. "The Grand Admiral is going to seek a full report tomorrow at 1700 and I can only imagine what the Supreme Leader is expecting. Failure is most certainly not an option."

"That does put the pressure on," Rokens rubbed the back of his neck and stretched his upper back against an apparent ache. "Too bad the Emperor didn't leave the princess an inheritance, because that would have been an enormous advantage at this point."

Hux lifted his head in an instant. "What did you say?"

"The Emperor didn't," Rokens repeated cautiously, "leave the princess an inheritance?"

"What if he did?" Hux felt a smile tug at his mouth. "Or perhaps her parents." He hit his comm, "Lieutenant Dez."

"Yes, general?" the information officer's audio-filtered voice sparked over his communicator.  
"Perform a subspace review of all banks and financial establishments that have ever had any connections with the empire. Search for anything that would be associated with any member of the royal household, including Darth Vader, Celestine Palpatine , and the Lady Dea'ev of Hapan."

"I'll get right on it, sir," Dez replied in a tone that hinted of a little more than a bit of doubt.

"Good. I want the report in my inbox by tomorrow morning," the general said, "End communication." He shut the comm device off then tossed it on the conference table. "I hope this works."

"With all due respect sir, I think I have as much confidence in this avenue as Lieutenant Dez does. This might just be a Pwi'lep dream," Rokens commented as he tugged at his nostrils.

He sniffed loudly then rubbed his nares again. "Must we continuously keep this room so frigid? My nose keeps running like a faucet in here." He cleaned the snot with the back of his fingers.

Hux made a face at him. "Don't touch me with that hand… ever." He pushed his upper body back against his seat, returning to the previous subject matter, "We always have options, Commander. Some are just easier then others."

"Easier?" Rokens knit his brow. "The temperature controls are right there on the wall behind us. How much easier could it possibly be?"

Hux slowly shifted his eyes to him.

Rokens withered under the heavy glare. "Oh, you meant the financing." He grimaced then rubbed the outsides of his arms, "But seriously sir, it's like Thoth in here. I think I'm catching a viral infection," with a big snorting-sniffling-sucking of snot, he spoke with a nasal edge and heartily wiped his nose. He sneezed loudly into his hands then glanced into them, "Yes, definitely viral."

The young general exhaled. "Fine. Increase the temperature," he massaged his temples, "I need a drink."

Rokens sniffed loudly and rubbed his nose again. "Of course, sir." He grabbed the pitcher and cup.

"No!" Hux called out to him, reaching out his hand to stop him.

Rokens stopped mid-pouring. "Something wrong, sir?"

With a disgusted grimace, Hux retracted his hand. "Just…" His exhaustion set in with a vengeance. "…get someone else to bring me a new drink and cup."

The Commander regarded him quizzically then sniffed the liquid in the pitcher. "Is something wrong with it?" He sneezed into it, then grit his teeth apologetically. "I'll have a new batch sent, sir." He hurried out.

Hux called out over his shoulder, "And make it strong." With an exhausted groan, he laid his head down on his arms. Things couldn't possibly get worse.

 ***** I had to cut this chapter into four parts. Thank you for your reviews and continued reading. I really appreciate your reviews and enjoy reading them in return.******


	13. Chapter 13

Exhausted, General Hux had dosed off the second after he laid his head down on the conference table. The lack of sleep had finally taken its toll. The clink of a cup drew his attention, stirring him awake. Hux lifted his groggy head to see the flowered teacup on its delicate saucer. "An imperial antique?"

He picked the cup up by its tiny pink handle to study it carefully, before lifting an eyebrow. "Do they really expect me to drink out of this bitty thing?" A hot dark liquid swirled inside the cup, releasing sweet smelling steam.

He sniffed the beverage, before barking, "I asked for something strong. Not what ever this sweet garbage is!"

"It's tea," a slightly miffed feminine voice replied, "It's good for you."

"Princess!" He jolted startled.

The cup fumbled out of his hands, spraying the steaming liquid onto the front of his pants. With a yelp, he shot out of his seat, dropping the teacup. It shattered.

Apple stared down at the broken pieces. A high-pitched gasp escaped her lips. "My mother's teacup." Her bottom lip began to tremble.

Mortified, Hux's face reddened. "I.. I…"

Tears tumbled over her eyelashes. She sniffled adorably. "It was one of a kind."

The young general backpedaled away, words caught in his throat. "I… ahhh…" He tugged at his collar, gulping. "I…Ahhh…. ummm…" Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. "Uhhh…" He bit his knuckle, boot-stepping more away.

Kylo Ren stalked into the room to stare down at the broken family heirloom. "Impressive performance, general. Care to explain why you just broke her mother's cup?" then glanced up to see the other man's wet pants, "And you do realize that we have bathrooms on this deck?"

Composure returned, Hux snapped his attention to him, sneering. "Do you care to explain why you are having a blind princess serve beverages when there are servants for that?"

Kylo folded his arms across his chest. "She insisted. And she is capable of making her own decisions." He snatched his aunt's wrist in an act of hypocrisy, "Come, Apple. There is nothing more here for you."

"But what about dinner?" She protested girlishly.

"It's not even time for dinner," the dark knight grumbled.

A high-pitched growling erupted from the princess's stomach. She quickly grasped her midsection, sheepish.

Kylo stopped and turned around. Both men's eyebrows lifted as if in unison.

"Was that your stomach?" Kylo asked with a half-smirk.

"No," she said quickly, eyes shifting side to side, "That was just your imagination."

Her stomach growled again.

Hux rubbed the back of his neck and regarded the dark knight simplistically as if to say with a single look, ' _you have your answer_.'

Kylo groaned, stretching his neck back. "Fine."

That brought a happy smile Hux's face. He opened a channel on his commlink, "Lieutenant Commander Ru, have someone prepare a feast as soon as possible. The princess is hungry."

"Umm, General sir," Ru's voice replied hesitantly, "we didn't receive the shipment of fresh food as expected today. All we have on stock are RREs."

Hux's face blanched instantly.

"This gets better and better," Kylo smirked, folding his arms across his chest.

Apple's stomach growled a third time. "RREs?" She whispered to her nephew, "Please say, they're edible."

"Possibly, if you like field rations," Lord Ren told her truthfully, "Nicknamed, Rations Rejected by Ewoks for reasons."

Apple covered her mouth with a high-pitched, "eep."

"So, general," Kylo eagerly piped up with a cruel grin, "you're going to feed the last imperial princess on her first day with the First Order RREs? Again, impressive performance," he slowly clapped his hands, "but perhaps you should change your pants first."

Hux straightened his uniform, attempting to gather some semblance of his pride despite earlier snapping at the princess, breaking a priceless imperial family heirloom, and having a wet crotch. "We will rectify this issue immediately, your highness," he managed to tell her without choking on his own tongue.

The general spoke into the communicator, "Lieutenant Commander, which planets are within this vicinity?"

"Let me check, sir," the officer replied then barked an order to another officer in the background before returning to the communicator, "The Hapes Cluster planet Zi'laz."

Kylo threw his head back and laughed. The Hapan were known for hating the First Order. In fact, they were even known for despising any government that demonstrated any paternalistic attributes. A planet cluster ruled by ruthless beautiful women that believed they were superior to men in all aspects of life, Hapes worlds were a man's worst nightmare. And even if they could manage to approach one of the plants on neutral terms, very few Hapes residents knew any other language besides Hapan, even Basic wasn't common knowledge to them.

"Blast!" Hux shut his eyes and covered a face with his gloved hand. He was thwarted at every turn. And at that moment, he couldn't decide which was a worse day: The day when the StarKiller base was destroyed, or that day at that moment.

Apple perked up. "Did he say, Zi'laz?"

The general slowly removed his hand from his face, "Yes."

The princess practically pounced on him for the communicator, "Give me, give me!" She tackled his arm for the device, "Lieutenant Commander Ru, don't end transmission!" She clutched Hux's fist that held the communicator, cooing into it, "Ruuuuu."

"Yes, your highness," the subordinate's audio-filtered voice came back on the channel, eagerly.

"Ru, would you be my best friend in the whole galaxy," she soaked her words thick with a feminine girlishness, "and open a channel to the Zil'az out base on this frequency: HH-44-992n64."

Hux blushed, having the princess so close. Her palms enveloped his hand in a warm embrace, while her lips brushed the edge of his fist as she spoke into the communicator… as good and delicate as kisses—albeit she had his arm wrestled into an arm-bar dragging him down to her height. For someone so tiny, she had considerable leverage. Not that he minded. He blushed a deeper shade of red. He didn't mind at all.

"The Hapes planet?" The Lieutenant Commander gulped, crashing Hux's thoughts. "But none of our translator droids are programmed with the language."

"Just have them send the transmission directly to me," she said almost desperate, "I'll talk to them."

"They could be dangerous, your highness," Ru informed her in a manner that was far from argumentative.

"Pleeeeeease," Apple cutely pleaded, instead of ordering the subordinate. "You're the only one that can do it perfectly."

"Of course, your highness," Ru's voice deepened delightedly as if it beyond a pleasure to call the planet of evil harpies. "I will at once… but it might take a few moments. Opening channels to Hapes planets require… ah… increased security buffers."

"That's alright, I can wait. Thank you so much," She beamed hopefully up at Hux, face inches from his …still not willing to release his communicator from her wrist-lock, "Captain Pellaeon had this place on speed dial for Mitth'raw," she corrected herself, "for Grand Admiral Thrawn and I. It simply has the best fast food this side of the galaxy."

Linking his communicator to the channel, Kylo offered it to her, "Here. Use mine. You've got the general's hand in a vice grip."

Apple blushed releasing Hux's arm to take Kylo's communicator. "Sorry."

He rubbed his aching shoulder, tempted never to wash the extremity again. "Don't worry…" the general squeaked, then cleared his throat to regain his resolve, "your highness. It was not an issue. I…" his words stumbled with a tightening of his vocal cords, "I am happy… to be of service to you."

Adoring the way her long eyelashes fluttered downward as her cheeks colored abashedly, he tugged at his uniform's collar. Hux managed with a large devoted exhale before snapping a glare at the Knight of Ren for giving her a reason to let go of him.

Expression changing slowly into a questioning stink face, she regarded the two men with skeptical eyes as if suddenly realizing something. "So, why are none of the protocol droids programmed with Hapan? They should be programmed to handle all languages."

"Because no one wants to deal with the crazy Hapan harpies," Kylo said just a little too honestly.

"Oh come on," Apple complained exasperated, "The Hapans are good people."

"They," Kylo leaned forward, enunciating carefully, "are demon spawn. There is a reason that something called the ' _Super Hot Crazy Matrix_ ' exists. Because the women are a matrix of Super Hot and Super Crazy."

"If you don't like them so much," Apple raised an eyebrow with a puff-cheeked deadpan expression, "then how come I sense that you have learned the language."

"Because the Hapan Queen Mother's consort, Prince Isolder still hits on my mom," he said dragging out the sentence for emphasis then added, "I had to learn it to screen his calls. The blasted stalker would call once a week to ask for her hand in marriage. And both of them were already married! To other people!"

"No way!" Apple bubbled a little too excited.

Kylo jerked his head back. "It's not like she acted upon it."

"No," she waved off his assumption, "his elder brother Prince Kalen asked me to marry him. See, both of us got asked by a Hapan prince to marry them. We sisters. They brothers."

Kylo covered his face with a groan.

Hux's expression went deadly flat. He lifted his communicator to his lips. "Lieutenant Commander blast the Hapes planet into oblivion."

No response. _By the Stars!_ Hux forgot his thumb was covering the mike. He removed his thumb and opened his mouth to give the order again.

With a laugh, Apple pushed the general's hand holding his communicator down. "Oh you are to funny."

"I was serious," Hux muttered under his breath, "I will blow that mud rock out of the universe." But the princess had already turned her attention back to her nephew, too wrapped up in her own preoccupations to hear him grumble about killing off the competition.

"Kalen and I were actually betrothed," she explained, "until he was killed by some space pirates."

"Ahh," Hux said, "how unfortunate." He smiled. "Truly unfortunate."

Apple continued with a detective's puckering, "I swear to this day, that his rotten mother had him murdered because she didn't want an alliance with the Empire. Although I could never prove it."

"She did have him killed," Kylo shrugged apathetic, "She practically confessed it to my mother after she tried assassinate her a few times as well."

"Hmm," Apple considered the situation, "Apparently, the royal Hapes men had a thing for Skywalker women that their Queen Mother didn't appreciate."

"That's because you two are not," Kylo emphasized, "crazy. Hapes women are crazy. They live for crazy. 'Purely-psycho-witches-from-hell' kind of crazy."

"I'm sure not all of them are… that uh.. crazy," Apple tried to soften the accusation.

"And how many Hapes women have you met?" Kylo asked folding his arms.

"Ummm…" The princess put her fingers to her mouth thinking, "Well, I've only met the men, but they all seemed really nice."

"Of course the men were nice." Kylo complained, "You're a beautiful woman that's not—how should I put this—insane! They're conditioned to walk on egg shells around women lest they have their—" he bit his tongue, censoring his words for the innocent eyes blinking at him, "masculinity chopped off by some psycho-rampaging-menstruation-monster."

Apple's expression flattened. "Gee Kylo, tell me how you really feel."

The lieutenant Commander came back on the communicator channel, "Your highness, we have a connection."

Her face lit up, clapping his hands she almost practically jumped up and down excitedly. "Eeee!"

Kylo shook his head. "Dinner isn't worth dealing with the demented harpies, Apple."

She waved him off. "Shhh. Do you want them to spit in our food?"

A foreign female voice voice came on line, speaking in the Hapes language. Alarmed, both men stepped back as if the she-devil would hop out of the microphone.

" _Ey'ito_ ," Apple smiled into the communicator, speaking in perfect Hapan before adding in Basic tongue, "Is Leu still working there?"

The female voice replied in a huff, but after a slight static sequence, a young man's voice piped up, asking in Hapan: _how he could be of service_.

Hux raised his eyebrows. She was brilliant to ask for a Hapes man to conduct business with. It placed her in an immediate sociological superior position. The transaction would be to her advantage.

Kylo, on the other hand, was slightly disappointed— half of him was hoping to hear a Hapan-cat fight.

Yet, after watching her expression dim when the man that answered was young, Hux began to wonder if her reasoning didn't revolve around social advantage but rather something else. The nostalgic look in her eyes provoked him to realize that she held a sentimental attachment to Hapes.

Apple frowned. "I meant Leu Chu'te, Senior. His wife used to be owner," she said then finished in the foreign language.

The man answered her in business-like Hapan.

She covered the mike, speaking to the others, "it's his grandson. His mother apparently inherited the family business last year." She flapped her hand down with a toothy grin. "Time flies apparently when you're trapped in carbonite."

She smiled sweetly, covering the mike with one hand. "Please excuse me," Apple told them, before carefully making her way towards a seat at a distance from them, continuing to spout off a long string of foreign dialogue into the communicator to which the Hapes man intermittently replied with short affirmatives and grunts.

Hux and Kylo exchanged looks. The hydraulic door hissed open behind them. Commander Rokens entered, carrying a bottle of dark Fei'lk rum and a cup. "Your drink, sir."

The general glanced at the beverage, wary.

Rokens sighed, throwing his head to the side. "I washed my hands."

Hux snatched bottle from him, ignoring the cup to throw a desperate swig back.

"What's going on?" Rokens spotted the princess conducting foreign business in corner. "Is she speaking Hapan?"

"Yes," Hux grimaced at the burn in his throat then filled the shorter tubby man in, "ordering dinner. When I should have already had it provided for her."

"Huh," was all the commander said in return. He shifted his eyes to Kylo's bare faced and jumped startled.

"You have a problem, Commander?" The Knight of Ren asked icily.

"No," Rokens answered quickly, "It's just… unusual to see you without your helmet."

"It wouldn't be unusual to see you without your head." Kylo's mouth slit into a lethal smile.

Features blanching, the Commander squeaked.

"I can't believe she actually has to conduct business with Hapan low-lifes in order to get dinner," Hux threw back another gulp, "It's mortifying. I should be the one taking care of things."

"She seems to be handling them well," Rokens commented, "Her grasp of the language is excellent."

Kylo shifted his eyes to him, "You speak Hapan?"

Rokens grinned, "Beautiful domineering women? Oh yeah, I definitely speak Hapan."

"I should kill you for saying that," Kylo made a disgusted face.

"She was so hungry…" Hux complained off in his own shame spiral, "I let the imperial princess become so hungry that she nearly took my arm off." He threw another one back. "A delicate gorgeous creature starving and now she's succumbed to speaking with Hapan scum for food?"

"Hunger does erratic things to the human psyche," Kylo postulated philosophically.

Hux shifted his eyes to him, weirded out. "Who are you?" He took another long drink. "I don't even know you anymore, Kylo Ren."

"I am Ben," the dark knight answered matter-of-factly, "Kylo's gone for now."

"Ah," Hux nodded then took a couple side steps away from him then looked at his bottle as if it was to blame.

Rokens cleared his throat. "Umm… General Hux sir?" He pointed at his pants, "Did you have an accident today? With all due respect, sir, you really should stay off the sauce if incontinence starts to become an issue."

Hux threw another gulp back, then pointed his bottle at the commander, "Lord Ren, you can kill the man."

The lightsaber ignited as Kylo grinned evilly. "With pleasure."

Yelping, Rokens scrambled out of there.

The knight of Ren lightsaber shut off, disappointedly, "Oh well… it was interesting to watch him run like a frightened little girl."

Hux really gave his bottle the eye. "Maybe I should lay off the alcohol, because I swear I keep thinking you have two different personalities."

 *******Thank you for your continued reading. Again, these are rough drafts… I've been working double-shifts so I have little time to dedicate to editing this fic story… which means there are probably grammatical and spelling errors that could have gotten through my spell-checker.**

 **Recap information:**

 **Hux is 21-years-old**

 **Kylo is 19-years-old.**

 ******Lastly, if you like this script, please comment and tell me what you like, who your favorite character is and why, which pairing you would like to see happen. And if you like my script, please favorite it and pass it on to your friends. I appreciate your continued reading.********


	14. Chapter 14

Spectral anomalies were highly frowned upon on the other side of the ether. Poltergeist activity was not something that led to one getting their wings, but in this case, there would be a little allowance for a psychokinetic outburst. No one would fault a father for erupting electromagnetic pulses when he saw that someone was making designs on his daughter. So no ghost even bothered to chastise Anakin Skywalker for busting a few light LEDs and droids.

Checking his finger nails out of habit rather than necessity, Obi Wan waited for the ex-sith to stop raging before he said quietly, "Feel better?"

"A little," Anakin calmed in abashment.

"You do realize that you can't keep her single forever?" The jedi stated simplistically.

"He's a 21-year-old man," Anakin defended his outburst, "She's a 16-year-old girl."

"She technically turns 17 next month," Obi Wan played devil's advocate. "She's no longer a child."

"Not helping," Anakin scowled then turned to watch over his daughter with loving eyes. "She is the only child that I have that doesn't hate me." He tracked her happy bubbly hugging of his grandson, "I want her safe."

"She does idolize you." Obi Wan nodded. "That gives her an advantage with your grandson. He is moved by her."

"I know," Anakin beamed proudly, "I raised her right."

"The Xang-Tii raised her right," Obi Wan corrected him, "You kept her in a sheltered bubble for three years. She developed her own endearing attributes."

"I loved her more than I have loved any of my children," Anakin confessed, regretfully, "I messed up with Luke and never even knew about Leia. If I had known about Leia…" He let his words trail off. "I couldn't protect Leia… not even from myself. I will not make that mistake with Apple; I will not let anything to happen to her."

"True. It is unfortunate that you discovered Leia was your daughter after death."

"Part of that is your fault."

"I was protecting her from you."

"And how did that work out for you?" Anakin grumbled bitterly.

Obi Wan held up his hands, surrendering the argument. "So we're both at fault."

Satisfied, Anakin shifted his attention to his grandson, "If I can help Ben recognize the futility of the dark side, then perhaps his mother will forgive me."

"I thought you were just trying to get your wings," Obi Wan teased.

"I'm trying to save my family." Anakin sounded tired… except spirits never grew tired. "If I could just help them see their true legacy… Help Ben take a path that leads to happiness—"

"Apple would bring him happiness," Obi Wan said, carefully watching his ex-padawan's face.

Anakin's features turned frigid. "I hope you mean that she will be a good influence on him."

"We shall see."

A vibration erupted in the ethereal film above them, rippling rainbow-colored waves. The two spirits glanced upward.

Obi Wan frowned. "We're being called back."

"Just a little more time," Anakin pleaded with the heavens.

"I'm afraid that our time for now is up." Obi Wan's frown deepened. "We'll have to continue things later. You'll have your chance to make things right."

—

There are some spots in the universe that are referred to as ' _legendary_ ': Naboo, the first world to take down the Trade Federation. Endor where the Rebels and a bunch of furballs defeated the Galactic Empire. Vos Gesal Street, the home of one of the most infamous and legendary singing groups acquisitioned by the Republic Senate. And lastly, Leu's Grease Pit outbase, near the Hapes Cluster planet Zil'az, known throughout the galaxy for it's ability to mass produce scrumptious slab-meat sandwiches and greasy vegetable-fries in record-breaking speeds—even Twi'leks were known to go there to eat their weight in grease.

"Wait a moment, please," Apple switched back to the Basic language, holding up her index finger out of habit as if the Hapes man on there other end of the transmission was in the room.

She held her palm over the communicator and called out to General Hux, "What kind of drink would you like? And do you want any Hapes half-fries or curly-onions?"

Hux blinked, bewildered. "I… uh… half-fries?" He whispered quickly to Kylo, "what are half-fries?"

"I'll take a large order of curly onions," Kylo ignored him, inputting his own order, "and do they have purple-berry-slippers?"

"You're following this?" Hux whispered to him.

Kylo shifted his blue eyes to him, expression condescending. "Haven't you ever ordered fast food before?"

"Yes, of course," the young general sharply straightened his uniform jacket, then hesitated, "but just so that I know that you know what you are talking about: Explain the process once again."

Kylo rolled his eyes. "And you made the rank of general how?"

Hux's expression turned deadly.

Sensing their glaring match, Apple covered the mike and quickly explained. "This is Leu's Grease Pit. Known It's the best flyby space fast food joint in the galaxy and it's in only found in Hapes territory. So, you two," she wagged her finger at them chastising, "be good. Just order something meaty, greasy, and of seriously-high caloric count, expecting it to have little-to-no nutritional value what-so-ever, but to taste like heaven. That's all there is to it."

She returned to the communicator to relay Kylo's order, "One supersize curly onions and a Purple-berry-slipper."

" _Ni'ech_ ," Leu replied.

After a few seconds of back and forth Hapan chatter with the man, Apple translated for Kylo, "They don't have any berry-slippers anymore, but they do have sour-berry-wallops. I've never tried a wallop, but I hear they're good. If you get one, can I have a sip?"

Kylo shrugged. "If you use your own straw."

"Of course," she made a face, "I'm not an indirect kisser." She turned to Hux, "What about you?"

Features turning scarlet, the general gulped, "Am I indirect kisser?"  
"No." She gave him that look that he'd typically give insubordinates that he considered embarrassingly slow, "What kind of drink do you want?"

Hux glanced down at his bottle that was now almost half-empty. "Anything strong," he managed, emotionally exhausted.

"I'm not ordering intoxicating beverages," she covered the mike with her palm, whispering sharply, "I'm sixteen."

"Then," he replied awkwardly, "whatever, you're having."

She shrugged then prattled off another string of Hapan.

Every so often the restaurant owner offered reciprocal affirmatives, ending with his recapitulation of her order and the final total price, " _Chot'to mae'te isch_."

" _Chot'to mae'te_?" The princess repeated, eyebrows raised. With a tempting smile, she cooed into the communicator, prattling on in Hapes tongue tongue. Her words sounded placating, if not, impishly coy.

The man chuckled a few times in response with more ready affirmatives, except at her last request, he gasped.

"Oh, come on Leu," she said pixieish, "for your grandfather's sake, do me a justice here. That coupon code is still good. That two-for-one said, 'lifetime,'" she scrunched her face saucily, then spouted another dizzying round of Hapan words emphasized by animated hand motions. "Pleeeeease."

Leu reluctantly agreed in very thick accented and broken Basic, "You drive hard bargain."

"Oh, Leu Leu Leu," she shook her head tsking, "If only your grandfather heard you say that. _I_ ," she emphasized only half-playfully, "am your family's best customer."

"Who are you?" The man finally got to the pertinent question, at least as far as Hux was concerned.

She smiled a slow but beautiful smile—the kind that caused Hux's jaw to slacken and probably would have devastated the man on the other end of the channel had he been able to see her.

"I am the Imperial Princess Apelaine Celestine Palatine Skywalker," she said formally, "your grandfather knew me as Apple…and I believe my account is still good with your company."

The Hapes man choked. "Thee Princess Apple? The _Shakal?_ "

Hux's eyebrows shot upwards. He may not have known much Hapan, but even he recognized the word, ' _Shakal_ ' which translated directly as 'worthy.' It was the highest compliment an outsider could receive from a Hapes resident, akin to saying, 'worthy of being in the presence of the Queen Mother.'

"The very same," she grinned confidently, "I know, my orders are legendary. The curly-twist-swirl you have on your menu… All because of me."

The man's audio-filtered gasp echoed over the two communicators. He pandered in Hapan rapidly and started yelling out orders to others in the background.

She waited a moment with a knowing and completely in control glint in her eyes. "So, when can you have our order ready?"

"In one half hour," came his enthusiastic accented reply.

"Perfect," she beamed, "We'll send the shuttles to your space dock. Thank you, Leu. You are very much appreciated."

He chatted on in a charming and flirtatious tone, tumbling over Hux's limited patience with a soliloquy in Hapan.

Her cheeks turned a shade of delicate rose pink. She tittered lightly, reaching for her nephew as if seeking his protection. "Goodbye, Mr. Leu." She ended the communication signal.

"He hit on you, didn't he?" Kylo gave her a knowing look.

"Well," Apple padded her way gingerly over to them, reaching out her fingers searchingly, "he asked me for my personal comm lines." Finding Kylo's outstretched hand, she visibly relaxed. "I just wasn't as obliged to give them as he was to ask for them."

Kylo snickered, guiding her closer. "Way to shoot him down. Way to shoot him down."

"That's rather brazen for a petty restaurant owner," General Hux commented not bothering to hide his displeasure, "to ask a princess."

"I was nice to him," she explained gently, "In the Hapan culture, a woman treating a man with civil playfulness is practically unheard of. Besides, he couldn't help himself, I was in 'persuasive mode.'"

"You used the force to buy fast food?" Kylo summarized as if to get the situation straight. He laughed, "Priceless."

She pouted, indignantly fixing her dress, "You use the force your way, I will mine." Her pout deepened almost puffing out her cheeks, "Besides, I got the food for one-third of the cost. I can't believe how much inflation has gone up in the past thirty years."

"You should have forced his weak mind to give it to you all for free," Kylo chastised flatly.

"No," Apple scrunched up her shoulders like a frazzled kitten, "that's stealing."

"He was a weak mind," Kylo reasoned unrepentant, "Weaklings are in this universe to serve us, the superior ones."

"Oh," she puffed up with coquettish fire, "you are too much, nephew: don't tease me like that. You know, I could never justify such rationale as a feminine courtier. Do as you may in your manly world, but I will not take part in such notions."

A flash of cold fury lit the Knight of Ren's eyes, "the dark side is absolute. It's notions are supreme."

"Oh of course," Apple admitted, stretching her upper torso to smile up at him submissively, "but you are a man, your universe revolves outside of the home dealing with enemies at every turn."

He blinked at her, curiosity simmering down his fire.

"Men must continually battle to usurp power in an infinite struggle for dominion. But I," she put a hand delicately on her bosom, "am a woman. And if I engaged in such a struggle then how could you confidently come home to me for relief and support. If I conducted myself in such a manner, could you honestly say that you could trust me without reservation?"

She let the hypothetical question linger in the air before continuing her reasoning, "No, instead you would subconsciously wonder at all times whether my actions and intents towards your happiness were sincere and faithful. You would question whether there was an ulterior motive behind my soothing words and tender expressions of love, or whether there was some willful deception on my part."

Her rationale startled both men into silence.

"A man must know with a definitive surety that while in his home, he is free of the struggle and the manipulations of the outside universe and that," Apple stressed, "he can believe with absolute certainty that the woman in his life is only devoted to his happiness and trust, and not to any selfish desires on her part."

Kylo 's fury dissipated under a startling and sudden wave of developing devotion.

"It is imperative," the princess continued, nodding her head in both of their directions with a regal air that surpassed any expectations of a princess on their parts, "to a man's future and well-being that he can unguardedly relax within a safe place free of the fear of betrayal. And gentlemen, I personally will adhere to that precedent, making my home and my bosom a place of happiness and security for those I love."

Hux moistened his lips, straightening his shoulders. "That is an admirable perspective, but what means do you seek to accomplish such a happy and congenial state? Most would consider what you propose as impossible in our generation."

"General, you forget that I am not from your generation," Apple countered his question, "I was raised among the Xang-Tii to understand fully my role in my familial relationships and how I can increase the happiness and well-being of those around me. I am not to take sides within the force or pursue ambitious endeavors outside of my familial circle."

"And you call that correct teachings?" Kylo narrowed his eyes. "It seems to restrictive to me for someone so strong in the force. Were they afraid of whom you could become through the dark side?"

"The Xang Tii hardly fear any side of the force for they embrace the balance," Apple corrected him, "And I don't find a restriction in promoting and protecting those I love. I intend to be a sanctuary to the hearts of those most dear to me."

"How can you not crave power?" Kylo asked incredulous.

"I am not a man," she said simply.

"I have known many a woman that have sought absolute power," Kylo retorted, "The Hapes Cluster is populated with power-hungry women."

"Yes, and you have labeled them as psychotic harpies," Hux put aside his bottle, frustrated with the Knight's determination to sway the princess's gentle heart, "Why does she have to follow in that irrational behavior? Shouldn't it suffice that the men around her forge forward while she supports them?"

"Exactly," Apple beamed, reaching behind her for the conference table. "And my support must be known as sincere and true. Therefore, I will never willfully deceive anyone nor take advantage of them. The ones I love will know with a surety that I am their place of refuge, because I will keep confidences and conduct myself as honestly, kindly, and uprightly as possible."

She hopped up a little to sit on the conference table and swing her feet underneath herself with a girlish smile. "And thereby in the future, the man that becomes my husband will know with an absolute and unwavering surety that I am his… mind, body, and soul to the betterment of his life and to the betterment of mine. And that is why the dark side is not for me."

Moved to the core by her soliloquy, Hux dropped to a knee before her. "Princess, I… I will conquer the universe for you."

Apple carefully felt out with her hand to touch his shoulder. "Don't do it for me, general. Do it for what is just and true. For order and the protection of the lives of millions."

He opened his mouth to speak. But her expression was so peaceful, so reticent… and her aqua eyes finally stared straight at him. His palms instantly became sweaty and his mouth dry. The pounding of his heart in his chest echoed damningly in his ears. And with that, the earlier embarrassing events crashed down upon his mind with the fury of a Zillo beast. The pressure of being that close to her face closed in on his throat in a clenching fist.

He sharply pulled away, jumping to his feet. "Do you want something to drink? Let me get you something to drink," he managed to burst, glancing away from her penetrating eyes. Face scarlet, sweat drenching his uniform, and hands trembling, he hustled out of the conference room.

"It better not be alcoholic!" Apple called after him.

Kylo snickered, watching him go before turning back to the princess.

Concerned, she asked after the doors hissed shut. "Is he alright? He seems to suffer from a considerable amount of anxiety."

"No, he's just insane," the dark knight answered, "but his psychiatrist is putting in overtime to help him block out the voices."

She chuckled, shaking her long curls. "So rude."

"Apple…" He began to ask the princess about her heartfelt confession and rejection of the dark side. Half of him was desperate for her to accompany him into the darkside, the other half revered the sanctity of her purity and wholesome reserve. He wanted her to join the darkness with him and yet, he knew deep down that he would be disappointed and unsatisfied if she did.

Her large innocent eyes focused on him steadily as she waited for him to continue.

Suddenly perplexed, Kyo changed the subject with a half-smirk. "Did I hear you say 'shuttles' to that meat man?" He inquired humored, "How much food did you order?"

"Enough to feed the entire ship." Her lips broke into a wide grin. "There's nothing like greasy meat slabs and Hapes fries to make people happy. It's the perfect thing to boost the crew's morale."

He put his hands on the table around Apple to lean over her, "You're the perfect thing to boost their morale." His smile slowly disappeared, eyes falling on her lips. "The perfect thing to boost…" Tilting his head to the side, he closed the distance between them. "…my morale."

With a laugh, Apple threw her head back, dismissing his words, "Yes, keep flattering me, nephew."

He jerked his head back away as if her words slapped him. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" She asked then nibbled on her index finger, mind drifting elsewhere, "Do you think I should have doubled the meat slabs? Most men eat a lot of meat, don't they? Or maybe, I should have ordered some vegetarian dishes as well. There could be some crew that don't even eat meat at all."

A sense of frustration in him rose. He pushed away from her, causing the large table to wobble slightly, then stalked a few steps towards the door before stopping himself in a jolt. He spun on his heel to face her. "Call me Kylo, Lord Ren, or even Ben if you have to, but I will have you no longer address me as 'nephew'."

Her brow furrowed. "Why don't you want me to call you nephew? I realize I'm younger than you, but—"

"That's not the point," he cut her off.

She poked the tips of her index fingers together, voice becoming diminutive, "Is it too intimate? I know we've technically only known each other for a short time, but I thought—"

"That's not it," he threw out his arm in a sweeping motion. " I want…" He took a few steps towards her, "I want…" He quickly closed his mouth, irate that he was beginning to stumble over his words. He bolstered himself, snapping, "It's not intimate enough!"

Apple opened her mouth in realization then closed it. Her lips started to tremble and tears glistened in her eyes. She slipped off the table to launch herself into his chest, hugging his torso.

"Ahhh!" She snuggled her cheek against his chest. "I love you too!"

Awkwardly he held his arms up a moment before returning her hug, expression softening. He entangled his fingers in her hair, breathing her in. "Perhaps, there is room in the dark side for love." He touched the side of her face, tipping her chin up towards him. His thumb traced her jaw. "Perhaps…"

"Oh, there always is," she beamed at him, "That's why, I am so grateful we're family."

Kylo let go of her chin in an instant, features hardening. "Of course, you are. Of course, that's how you would see things." His mental wall went up instantly

He pulled away from her slightly, leaving her to blink at him quizzically.

"Your highness," Lieutenant Commander Ru's voice popped over the communicator, "We've received notice that the food order is ready for receipt."

Apple jumped out of Kylo's arms excitedly. "Dinner! Dinner! Yeah!" She clapped the communicator in her hands, exuberant. "I will be right there, Ru! Thank you!"

She scurried for the door happy then suddenly stopped. Putting her fingers to her mouth, she turned back to Kylo meekly. "Neph-" she quickly corrected herself, "Kylo… I don't know where to go."

Piercing his lips, he stalked to the door. He snatched her wrist in passing, not even bothering to slow his stride. He pulled her after him. "Come on."

Stumbling over herself, she grinned. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting to eat at Leu's Grease Pit."

Drily, he said, "Let me guess: thirty years?"

She laughed, "How'd you know?"

 ********This one was a really rough draft. I just don't have the time to edit these chapters lately... but anyway, please excuse grammar and spelling errors that got through my spell checker. Also, please send in reviews or share this story with your friends. Again, I am curious what you are thinking. Which pairings you would like to see... etc. Thanks for reading. *******


	15. Chapter 15

Dr. Wintlock raised a slit eyebrow at his patient, crimping his facial scar. "Come again?"

General Hux raked both his hands through his auburn hair as he paced. "Have I come down with a plague?" He paced a few steps then sharply sat on an exam chair. "It must be a plague: there is no other explanation. I could have acquired it from Commander Rokens—he was spraying nasal germs all over the conference room."

Rapidly rolling his fingers in an agitated twittering, the young general shot out of the seat only after a a few seconds of sitting. "I am having a hard time concentrating. My heart is racing. My palms are sweating. My throat tightens whenever I attempt to form words. Am I dying? My constitution has never before wavered—"

"Your vitals signs are within normal limits," Wintlock tossed a data pad onto the polymer counter between them. "Your labs are within normal limits. There's nothing wrong with you physically."

Hux slammed his palms down on the transparent polymer, causing a ripple in the material. "Then explain to me what this is!"

He continued glaring at the physician heatedly, "In my entire life I have never been sick—not a sniffle, not wheeze, not a weak moment. And now whenever she is in my presence I feel as though," he slapped a hand over his sternum, "a wookie is sitting on my chest. If I can not breathe, I can not speak. And if I can not speak, how can I court the imperial princess and bring honor to my family. Now doctor," he stressed leaning over the counter towards the older man, "give me a diagnosis and a cure."

The seasoned doctor sighed, reclining back in his chair to steeple his fingertips together under his nose. "General, I must ask you something."

Hux straightened himself perfunctorily. "You have permission, doctor to ask anything pertaining to my condition."

"How many women have you been around during the course of your life?"

The question took the young general back. He blinked for a moment. "My mother had many of her socialite associates within our home throughout the years." Scrunching his features, he asked impatiently, "and what does that have to do with anything?"

"And how about… girls your own age?" Wintlock swiveled his chair in a half circle following after his superior's flustered movements.

Hux stopped in a blunt motion. "There were no…girls," he repeated the word distastefully, "at the academy during the years that I boarded there."

"Any girls within the vicinity?"

"That's absurd. Unless a woman was a nurse or an officer, she did not have access to the Academy. Girls have no place in military arenas."

"I'm sure Captain Phasma would love to hear that," Wintlock said with a half-cocked smile.

"You know exactly what I meant, doctor," the young general sneered far from amused, "Captain is a woman and a capable soldier. No one would mistake her for a silly girl." He gave the physician his back to absent-mindedly survey the diagnostic sequences on the adjoining wall.

"And the princess is a silly girl?  
"No," Hux spun to face him, features blanching, "she is different—an imperial princess and the future of the empire. At the academy, other girls would have been a distraction."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

Hux's face reddened. "What?… That's—" He snapped impatiently, "None of this has any bearing upon my illness? I'm here for medical treatment, not a conversation about my childhood."

"General," Dr. Wintlock start at him steadily, "you don't need any medical treatment. You just have a common social anxiety—"

"Anxiety?" Hux blustered enraged. He straightened his sleeves a few times, before his expression turned icy, "I have been tested for flaws since infancy, doctor. If I would have had such a weakness as anxiety, it would have appeared on the diagnostic exams years ago."

"Military psychological examinations do not account for women."

"Women?" Hux made a face.

The doctor exhaled in a pensive puff. "You are not sick, general," he explained, "you are just shy around—"

"What?" Hux gasped, taking an uneasy step backwards. "That's… that's absurd. I engage in political interactions and deliver speeches in perpetuum. I am far from shy, doctor—I conduct countless briefings, lead thousands of men, and am constantly surrounded by soldiers."

"Yes. Men," the seasoned physician hardly twitched at the younger man's outburst, "not women."

Hux closed his mouth and slowly leaned back his upper body. "Women?"

Dr. Wintlock slapped his hands on the arms of his chair to stand up. "Tell me sir, what enters your mind when you think of the princess?"  
"I…" The young general trailed off his own words, mind reflecting on the princess's delicate face and happy expressions. "It doesn't matter what I think. She's just perfect. The most perfect, dazzling, beautiful creature in the universe. I intend to marry her, doctor."

The physician rested back against the counter listening with expectant patience.

Hux continued, mouth struggling against a pleasant smile, "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Everything she does is just…" He cut himself off, biting on his knuckle. "Can you imagine how breathtaking she will be in a wedding dress? We could be married at sunset on Gizea where the wind would blow the scents of flowers through her hair. She has the most lovely hair."

The doctor's eyebrows raised knowingly. "General Hux, with all due respect: Most men don't have such… uh," he searched for the right unobtrusive word, " _detailed_ romantic fantasies. Nor do they have shrines to the women they love in their offices."

"How did—" Hux's face flushed then his expression turned savage. "Commander Rokens is dead."

"He didn't tell me anything," Wintlock explained not phased by the younger man's anger, "Your exhibiting all the traits of a man whom is just shy around women, especially the one woman that he esteems the most. It was an easy deducement that I made all on my own—the Commander revealed nothing to me."

Wintlock continued in an autogenetic medical manner, "What you are experiencing is anxiety when the princess is in close proximity. To begin with, you have little to no experience with females of marriageable age. And in an added complication, you view the imperial princess as the most perfect woman—or as the ' _only one_ ' for you, so to speak—and therefore, interacting with her becomes extraordinarily daunting to you. So, you become nervous and the pressure becomes too much for you manifesting physically."

The truth struck the general like a laser to the chest. "So you are saying that I am afraid of a little blind princess?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"How could I—?" He cut himself off, balking, "My father," he gasped horrified, "if he ever found out that I had such a fallacy."

"It's not a fallacy," Wintlock explained, "It's normal."

"Normal is not acceptable within in my family, doctor," Hux snapped, "We are either superior or we are dead." He swiveled on his heel and staggered backwards to drop defeated into a chair. "How will I ever overcome this flaw?"

"You will overcome it when she becomes your wife."

"And that would require talking to her, wouldn't it doctor!" He replied viciously. "How am I supposed to talk to her when even looking into her eyes makes my throat tighten and my heart pound?"

Wintlock's eyelid twitched involuntarily as he paused a moment. "Before speaking with her," he instructed, "take a deep breath. Remember your own heritage. She is just a frightened sixteen year old girl." He admitted on a tangent, "Technically, she turns seventeen next month, but still she—."

"Seventeen?" Hux straightened. His expression smoothed with distracted elation. "That's… That's capitol! In only one year, she will be eighteen. Marrying her in one year…would be more than possible."

Wintlock shook his head dryly at his superior's sudden lack of focus, "If you can talk to her."

Hux's shoulders dropped, echoing disappointedly, "if I can talk to her."

The doctor sighed. "My point is that whenever you get nervous around her… just compliment her."

"Compliment her?" Hux furrowed his brow, "How would that solve anything?"

"Women like compliments."

"What happened to women preferring actions to words?" Hux grumbled.

"Who told you that?" Wintlock scratched his elbow.

"My mother."

"Your mother prefers expensive gifts," Wintlock said with a wry look, "Perhaps, that's the actions she speaks of."

"True." Hux nodded, rubbing a strain out of the back of his neck, "Every

incidence when my father angers her, he has to buy her jewelry for amends."

Wintlock grimaced. "That woman is angry a lot: She must have some cache of gems."

The general sent him a sharp look.

"I imagine the princess likes jewelry," Dr. Wintock said quickly.

"She wouldn't be able to see it," Hux contemplated, "She requires something more… more heartfelt."

"Heartfelt?" Wintlock shuddered, "Please don't say that word again. Coming from your mouth it just seems," he rolled his shoulders as if shaking off something nasty, "unnatural."

Hux laughed, tension spent. "Not when it is in regards to my future with the princess." His expression took on a careful edge of seriousness. "I intend to make a life for her. Even with the Republic's government crushed, the battle is far from over, making it difficult to provide for her the way she deserves. I need to provide for her comfortable surroundings." He placed his hands on the transparent polymer and dropped his head, closing his eyes against his own reflection, "And I couldn't even provide for her an adequate dinner."

Dr. Wintlock opened his mouth to respond, but red warning lights flashed overhead and sirens erupted.

"An attack?" Hux hissed. "Why wasn't I notified?"

The seasoned physician tossed him his communicator. "Your communicator is off."

"I never turned it off. The princess…" Hux realized what had happened. He flipped on his commlink with his thumb, "Commander Rokens report."

"Pirates, sir," Rokens audio-filtered voice erupted over the channel, "Hapes Pirates have us surrounded."

"Prepare for evasive action. Have the helm steer her in a Series H-7G defense position. Pirates will try to anchor themselves to the side hull rather than seek a rooting attack," Hux left the sick bay in strong strides. "How many ships?"

Rokens' voice "Eight, sir. But they haven't began firing yet." A beeping sound mewed in the background. "They're hailing us."

"Good." Hux pierced his lips. He bounded toward the nearest elevator. "To the Bridge," he told the computer jostling the lift into action then said into his communicator, "Stall them, Commander, until I get there—I'm two decks away."

"Uhhh…" Rokens hemmed and hawed. "The princess might have that one covered."

Hux closed his eyes. "Please tell me that she isn't talking with them."

"No, sir," Rokens answered.

The young general exhaled relieved.

"She's having Lord Ren converse with them for her."

General Hux shoulders stiffened. "By the Emperor's black heart! "

"Should I have them taser him?" Rokens asked simply.

"No, Commander." Hux rubbed his temples. "Tasing Lord Ren is not an option. He'd kill everyone when he'd awaken."

"Good point."

Hux glanced at the deck indicator. He just hoped that he'd reach the bridge before his dark side associate got them all killed.


	16. Chapter 16

"Captain Heg'ir, I hope for your sake that this is a congenial gesture," Kylo said evenly in thick-accented Hapan, "because if this is an attempt at a blockade, you should have brought more than just eight small frigates."

"If that were so and size alone dictated success in battle, Lord Ren, then it would appear that we might be at a slight disadvantage," Captain Heg'ir countered in his native Hapan tongue, his chiseled face shadowing dangerously.

Some of the crew whispered in the command pits amongst themselves that the man looked more like an interplanetary actor than a hoodlum pirate.

In a theatrical pause, the pirate scratched his blonde go-tee apathetically, "But, these traits haven't always been supreme in warfare." He lifted his brown eyebrows in false sympathy, "I've understood dreadnaught-class star destroyers have a tendency be unfortuitously slow in close range battles. The New Republic demonstrated that by defeating the Empire… during the Battle of Jakku."

The Pirate's flowery accent exaggerated the consonant sound of the planet's name, making it almost uninterpretable to most ears, but Kylo didn't need to hear the correct pronunciation to know the man's meaning.

"The Empire," Kylo smiled behind his mask, "didn't believe in utilizing as aggressive tactics as the First Order does. Therefore, they could be perceived as…" his tone curdled in warning, "more lenient and less resourceful than us."

The First Order security officers popped their heads up from the defense controls at the dark knight's challenging tone. They may not have understood the Hapan words, but they knew when he was two parsecs away from annihilating someone.

On the main screen, two Hapes Pirates drew their flawless faces back as if pulling away from an obtrusive odor. They didn't have to see his deadly smile to understand his threat. And their view on the 2-D screen exchange added to the foreboding.

Typically, only one of the pirates would have appeared on the hologram transceiver in the bridge's portside, while Lord Ren's hologram would have been sent in reciprocation during standard ship-to-ship communication. Yet, there was a discrepancy in the frequency buffers. And thus, hologram transference was impossible. So both sides' communication officers had to resort to on-screen images, giving each party a greater view into the opposition's bridge.

Lord Ren's presence was ominous enough, but the Star Destroyer's command station was an austere nod to the First Order's sheer military power. Supremely functional with massive viewing ports, dual-patterned re-inforced force fields, and laser turrets, it reflected absolute warfare. Control pits sunk deep on both sides of the command walkway manned by several officers. Safety consoles lined the upper deck's walls, flashing firepower capacity in various code sequences. Not a bad design. It was a superior… intimidating design. And the channel feed gave the pirates a good—albeit intended—peek at the display of its power.

A growling noise erupted from a corner behind a safety console. The pirates looked around for the cause of the sudden prognathous sound.

Kylo flinched. And there it was… the single disadvantage to revealing so much of the bridge.

The dark knight shifted his eyes to Apple's hiding place, careful not to turn his head. Concealed from the pirate's view, the princess crouched behind the console, arms wrapped her arms around her stomach. She blushed sheepishly.

" _Sorry, but I'm so hungry_ …" her mind telepathically apologized then complained as she pouted at him from her corner, " _and my feet hurt_. _Please hurry_ …" Her stomach growled again, louder.

The Safety Officer acting as her cover started sweating enough to drench his armpits in seconds. Shooting his eyes continuously to her, it was apparent that he was cognizant that moving only a par-step would expose the hem of her gown. He slowly slid the fabric back behind the console with his boot.

Most Hapes pirates were known for chaotic cruelty that didn't spare women. Not all, but most. And this fact put the Star Destroyer's entire command-crew on edge. Had they been on their own, the need to tread lightly wouldn't have existed. Now, cognizant of the precious cargo they carried—many of them were intensely worried about engaging the known-savage felons.

Kylo returned his attention to the pirates. And these were hardly an exception to the rule. On the surface, all Hapes residents appeared harmless. They were known for aesthetic physical beauty that put Twi'leks to shame.

Characteristic of all Hapes residents, the Pirates's faces were flawless, despite each contorted in varying degrees of a scowl. The Hapes people were known for their symmetric features and these men were no exception. Hair perfectly cut, green uniforms perfectly starched, faces clean-shaven and chiseled, they could have been mistaken for a holo-movie rather than criminals. Even the interior of their ship had an aesthetic appeal to it with fluid-like curves and a harmonious neutral color palate. It was a nauseating sight.

"What was that noise?" Captain Heg'ir asked suspiciously, "Hauling a wild animal?"

Commander Rokens moved inauspiciously in front of Apple's trembling frame to lean against the edge of the control panel as if there wasn't a small princess there.

"What noise?" Kylo asked, taunting, "Perchance, your frequency buffer hasn't cleared the subspace channel sufficiently. Should we send some technicians over to assist you?"

Heg'ir gripped his command chair's arms with white knuckled fists. Perfectly cut blond strands fell into his flashing emerald eyes. "How about we board your ship instead?"

"If you want you head severed from your shoulders," Kylo smiled.

Apple's stomach growled again. Rokens flinched. Reaching into his pocket, he palmed a nutrient bar to toss it behind himself.

Apple made a girly "mewmmph!" sound when the bar hit her in the forehead.

The pirates exchanged a look.

Rokens mimicked her high-pitched noise, "Hmmmph!" He pumped the flat of his fist against his stomach, "Excuse me. Field Rations give a man serious indigestion."

Captain Heg'ir's full lips pierced into a flat line. It was obvious that he hadn't understand a single word of Basic that Rokens had said, "Lord Ren," he addressed him in Hapan, not bothering to move the sandy blond locks threatening his cold eyes, "please inform your subordinate that we don't speak his inferior tongue."

"That's copacetic," the dark knight sneered, "because he doesn't speak your subsidiary language either."

Heg'ir's second-in-command coughed. The pirate shifted his eyes to the dark haired younger man. He straightened, piercing his full lips as his subordinate coughed again. It was apparent that his coughs were counterfeit. Heg'ir paused, then immediately changed his tactic.

"Lord Ren," Heg'ir kept his distracted attention on his comrade, "I'm curious as…"

The younger pirate widened his eyes and shifted them several times to the left.

"…whether or not, you made any stops at Hapes outposts in your current heading," Heg'ir finished before returning his attention to the dark knight, "And picked up anything along the way?"

Kylo's eyes darted to the youngest pirate. There was a marked difference between the man and all his other comrades on their bridge: he stood a little stiffer, his posture more perfect, and his brown eyes more intense. _And_ …Kylo closed his fists… the force wafted off the young pirate.

The Blue stripes that lined one of his sleeves were covered with silver etching, a seemingly significant difference from the brown on his comrade's sleeves. Perhaps barely in his twenties or even still a teen, the young pirate craned his neck, scanning the Star Destroyer's bridge for something, before giving his superior a few poignant looks. An obvious signal. The man had the force, and he sensed something.

Even though the force wasn't particularly strong with him, but it was there. And that posed a problem. Even at that distance, the force could be felt—and that meant both ways. Transmission interludes normally didn't provide for accurate gauging of force ability—yet, if the engagement spanned too long, the man's force ability could present a serious issue. The sooner they ended the exchange, the better.

Kylo harnessed his anger. He allowed this game of diplomacy nipped at him, forcing him more on edge than a dark knight would ever relish, especially balancing such a delicate interplanetary issue. "Yes, I stopped to buy you a dress. Do you want me to send it over on a few torpedos?"

Enraged, Captain Heg'ir jerked his upper body towards the viewer, shifting the ranking ropes on his shoulder in a tense motion. "Let me be frank, Sith. This is not a game."

"Sith?" Kylo challenged. "No one ever said that I was a Sith."

The man's face blanched.

Kylo narrowed his eyes, his audio-filtered voice not hiding his smirk. "Rather I should ask who told you that I was a Sith?"

Captain Heg'ir immediately shifted his eyes to the younger pirate then ventured hesitantly. "You're wearing black and are carrying a lightsaber."

Kylo folded his arms across his chest. "And that makes me a Sith?"

"Why would the First Order venture this far into Hapes space, Sith?" The curly haired pirate burst, impatiently changing the subject. "This is a war-free zone!"

"This is Hapes space?" The dark knight replied, sarcastically. He itched to confront the man—to rip out of him a confession that he was a jedi before he cut him down. But he had a princess to protect and that fact alone hedged his malicious intentions.

"Need I remind you that you left the neutral zone parsecs back?" Captain Heg'ir interjected.

"I thought pirates didn't concern themselves about the Hapes governmental regulations," Kylo threw the argument back at him, "Or perhaps, you consider yourselves enlightened and law-abiding criminals?"

Commander Rokens watched the exchange, neck starting to spasm. Any officer with eyes could see that the interlude wasn't preceding well. Nobody expected Lord Ren to sugar coat things…cooing their way out of a battle, but his manners hinted at outright antagonism. And the tension had escalated fast.

Captain Heg'ir's scrutiny flitted his eyes from his younger colleague back to Kylo's mask. "We have our curosities. Your people were reported to have destroyed five Republic planets, including their capitol."

"So," Kylo replied in a tone that all but gave him an obscene gesture. "Do you want me to say I'm apologetic, because I'm not." He tilted his upper torso towards the image-transceiver, voice depicting a smile hidden behind his mask, "I enjoyed every minute of it."

The younger pirate stiffened visibly.

Captain Heg'ir shrugged, less concerned than his second-in-command. "Didn't ask for a concession, Lord Ren; I'm not from the Republic."

"And so this conversation…" Kylo rolled his hand in a mocking circle, "is because you just… felt social all of a sudden?"

"It's because we care about our own planets!" The young pirate burst again, warranting a sharp look from his superior. His dark curls flopped with his outburst, masculine black ribbon tying back his hair bobbing. "Unlike you, we value Hapan lives."

"Abducting and pillaging those planets hardly demonstrates that you value anything other than yourselves," Kylo returned deadpan. He was two seconds away from telling the security team to open fire on them.

The young pirate blinked his large brown eyes, jerking back his head indignant. "We don't abduct and pillage. We are gentlemen."

"Gentlemen? You are pirates," Lord Ren enunciated exasperated. "And this conversation is giving me a headache. Now either move out of our way or become bugs on our hull!"

"Just try to get past us." Captain Heg'ir slit his eyes. "We may not be upstanding citizens of the Hapes Cluster, but we will be blasted to oblivion before we let alien scum destroy our homeworlds!"

Apple poked her head of hiding, indignant. "We're not alien scum," she said in flawless Hapan, peeking around the Commander's stocky build, "And we're not here to destroy your worlds."

The pirates snapped their heads back.

Kylo spun to the princess. "Apple!" He was more than angry, hissing in Basic, "I told you to stay out of sight."

She pouted, fiddling with her bandaged fingers like a guilty child. "But…"

Kylo stalked towards her. The Commander scurried out of the way of his chagrined strides.

"Now you have given me no choice but to blast our way through them." Lord Ren growled, towering over her.

Large eyes glistening, she gave him a puppy-look that melted his anger in an instant.

Kylo placed a hand on her head, craving to hold her in his arms. But the watching eyes of his enemies, caused him to just pat her head.

"Why couldn't you just stay hidden?" He asked in Basic, voice softened to the surprise of the crew members nearest them.

"I tried…" she said, then admitted with a puckered expression, "okay, so my stomach gave me away, but I am hungry and those pirates were wrong. We're not here for their planets." Her stomach growled again. She quickly grabbed it, sheepish. "We're here for dinner."

"Interesting cargo for a First Order ship," Captain Heg'ir commented in Hapan icily. His eyes took in her bandaged hands and limping steps. "And you call us criminals?"

Kylo slowly turned on the pirate, holding his arm protectively in front of the princess. "Do you have a problem with my cargo, pirate?"

"You should probably return her to her own people, Sith." Captain Heg'ir glared, handsome features deadly as he gripped the curled arms of his command chair, "Hand the girl over. Now."

The Knight of Ren stared at him for a short moment, then said simply, "Open fire."

 ****** Had to cut this scene in two. If there are grammar errors, I don't have time to edit these chapters, so please ignore them. I'm just writing when I can. But please post reviews and tell your friends about this story. It's been fun writing it, but your comments and reviews make it worthwhile.*****


	17. Chapter 17

"Evasive action!" Captain Heg'ir shouted to his crew, "Blast their port side."

The Hapes pirates sprung into motion, manning their stations.

"No blasting." Apple threw out her hands, grasping with the force several weapons officer's arms. "No, no blasting."

Men's fingers forcibly stopped only centimeters from firing sequence arrays. Surprised, both pirates and First Order officers tried again to move their suddenly frozen hands towards their weapons controls. No use. She had their arms in a telekinetic vice grip. They weren't moving. Not one millimeter.

She grimaced under the mental strain, managing to squeak, "That's a lot of trigger fingers."

"What are you waiting for?!" Heg'ir barked at his crew. "I said, take out their port side."

"Can't, Captain," his helmsman cried, muscles in his neck spasming as he strained to touch their ship's weapons array without success. "My fingers… won't respond…" His heterochromic eyes widened with trepidation, "…like they're being held back, sir."

"Move out of the way!" Heg'ir shoved him out of his seat to hit the triggering mechanism. "I will fire upon them myself."

Apple flipped her hand upside down, scrunching her brow under the telekinetic stress, stopping his hand from reaching the controls.

"No. No. No," she said in quick roll of Hapan as she struggled to hold the 'firing squad' at bay, "There will be no firing anything." She chastised, "You are all…all too…" she struggled to find the right words in her girlish frustration, "too battle naughty!"

Captain Heg'ir turned to his young second-in-command, "Lieutenant Resolder, do something."

The force-sensitive pirate shot his eyes from the screen to his Captain for a moment before his mind registered what was happening. "Of course."

Lifting his gloved hand, Lt. Resolder closed his eyes reaching out with the force. His eyes popped open in panic, "I can't. I don't know how." He stammered, shifting side to side like a frightened child. "Her power is strong…" His eyes bulged, "Really strong."

"She's fighting for their side," Captain Heg'ir said to him through clenched teeth, popping his fist down on his command chair arm. "Why is that happening, lieutenant? I thought you said—"

"I don't know," Resolder scoured his hands through his dark curls. "This doesn't make any sense: I can feel her fear."

"Yeah, well," Apple countered, "I can feel your concern about…" She made a baffled face, "deodorant? Really? At a time like this?"

Resolder stutter-stepped then jabbed his fingers horizontally at the viewer blustering, "Hey, I break into cold sweats under pressure."

"But you the ones whom started this," she retorted.

"No, the…the First Order started this with their… their," He waved his hand in a zig-zagging haphazard gesture looking for the Basic-language word, choosing instead a conglomerate of non-technological Hapan, "world-blaster-doo-hickey."

She dropped her arms, scrunching her shoulders with a dumbfounded, "What'em?"

Distracted, she accidentally abandoned her force hold on the weapons officers.

The men stretched their fingers and hands relieved. With sly glances at each other, some of the men tried again to hit their respective fuselage controls.

"Whoops!" The princess force-gripped all code pressing fingers a second time reaching further outward and flashed a sheepish smile, "Forgot."

She put on her best attempt of a stern face, which was more of a puff-cheeked puckering expression that appeared more adorable than scolding, "No punching in sequences."

—

The bridge had three primary entrances:

One, the main hall, where the highest-ranking officers could enter directly from their personal quarters located on the same deck;

Two, the control pits, into which the subordinate control crews would gather for work below the command walkway and if need be, could escalate ladders into the bridge itself;

And three, the turbo lift, which connected to a few of the lower decks, allowing access from other areas of the ship.

So if entrance to the bridge was paramount, then one could easily find a way there. Unless… they were trapped in the turbo-lift itself. And in that case, they were a screwed droid-pooch. There was no getting out of that cylinder unless the maintenance staff pried them out with a laser-saw or the controls were manually overridden at the command console inside the bridge, using one of the chief staff's authorization codes. It was a design flaw. A necessary security parameter. And there were quite a few ways to get locked in the turbo lift— unfortunately, one of which was not punching in the access code with a preauthorized fingerprint… within the specified time.

General Hux waited for the lift's hydraulic door to slide shut and rotate into locked position before he pulled off his glove in order to key in the code sequence. "Social anxiety my afterburner," he reflected on his conversation with Dr. Wintlock grumbling, "I don't have social anxiety."

"Input the authorization code," the computer-generated female voice reminded him.

Palming his glove in his other hand, he went to punch in the security sequence.

But his index finger suddenly stopped inches from the mechanism. "What the—" He shook it off and tried once more.

Again as if being held back by an unseen force, his fingertip stopped inches from the control panel.

"Warning. You have ten seconds to input the authorization code," the female voice cautioned monotone, "or security lockdown will commence."

Hux rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

He tried a third time. Fail. Furrowing his brow, he attempted a fourth time putting his back into it. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. No avail.

"Come on!" He howled, and tried a fifth time, pushing his finger towards the control panel with his other hand. Still no use. He tried with his left hand. Not anymore success. And his fingers were no closer to the sequence pad then when he started.

The computer's voice said again as cautioning lights hopped up the LED stripes on the walls, "Warning. You have five seconds to input the authorization code before security lockdown will commence."

"What the Blasted-Ages is going on here?!" Hux hurled his glove at the mechanism.

He glanced with hatefully bulging eyes at his beet red palms. "I can't possibly be losing domination. I'm always in charge," large inhale, "This will not defeat me. One more time."

He tried again. Nope. Frustrated and eyes glinting of magical rage, he kicked the metal wall. The illuminated black and red control panel mocked him.

A loud mechanical slamming initiated as rivets rolled, clasping lightsaber resistant deadbolts. "Security lockdown engaged. Please wait for assistance with your demise. Have a nice day," the computer said as the lights inside the turbo lift shut off saving only the LED strips.

Hux dropped his head and pulled out his communicator. His pride slowed his resolve to open the channel.

"Commander," he spoke into it defeated. "Manually override the turbo lift controls so that I can access to the bridge."

"Let me guess, sir," Rokens's hushed audio-filtered voice sounded as if he spoke out the side of his mouth while he cupped his hand around his lips, "you're unable to manually input the code?"

Hux paused, not sure if he wanted to answer that.

"It's the princess," Rokens explained, whispering. "She's blacklisted all trigger fingers… in other words, she's halted all 'button pushing' period with the force," adding excitedly, "Remarkable, sir. Purely remarkable."

He hurriedly annotated further, "Maintenance is already receiving ship wide calls from lavatories. No one is able to even flush toilets and…" his voice wobbled with a sense of revulsion, "things are starting to really back up in the lower decks, sir."

"What?" Hux felt a headache coming on.

Rokens began in an even more hushed volume, "It all started when Lord Ren almost opened fire on the pirates and—"

"That's expected," Hux cut him off, impatiently, "About the princess?"

Rokens muttered, "It's complicated."

"Complicated?" Hux gripped the air in clutching fist as he tilted his head to the side to control his anger. "How much more complicated could this possibly be?"

"Uhh…" Rokens hemmed and hawed. "You don't want to know, sir. I think she's deliberately distracting a force-sensitive pirate…"

In the background, he could hear the princess's voice speaking in Hapan impishly.

From what he knew of Hapan, it sounded like she said, "Did too."

A Hapes man's voice retorted. "Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Rokens' hushed voice came back over the line. "See. Complicated."

Hux made a frustrated growling noise, attempting to regulate his desire to wring the other man's neck. "Just override the turbo lift controls, and get me up there, Commander. Now."

"My apologies, sir." Rokens' voice became more muffled. "But it requires a manual sequence to do so. Not possible at this moment."

Static erupted in the background along with a loud roar from the Knight of Ren.

The commander's voice popped back on the channel in rushed whisper. "Got to go sir. Lord Ren just told everyone to shut up and I think he's going to kill someone."

"What?" Hux's question was met by the buzzing of a severed connection.

The general glared at his communicator. "Yes, someone is going to die today, but it won't be by Lord Ren's hands." He slammed his communicator into the lift's wall, crushing it in a satisfying spark of parts.

"Hmmph." Hux watched the metal pieces and wires fall, feeling marginally gratified. "Now I am beginning to understand why that Son of Barve destroys things."

Shrugging off the revelation, he punched his fist into the turbo lift's control panel breaking it apart to rip out its guts. He began re-wiring the mechanism. "No, pirates are going to attack my ship."

—-

Several data pads and metal caffeine-mugs trembled around the bridge for a long tense moment. Military personnel braced themselves for a trademark force explosion of rage. But instead Kylo Ren just stared everyone down anger quelling.

Straightening himself slowly, Kylo opened and closed his fists, itching to take his lightsaber into the pirate's cabin and lay waste to the lot of them. They were that irritating. But he'd withhold for the time being. The floating data pads and cups dropped en masse around the bridge, falling to the ground and onto desk tops. One hit the console next to him to bounce off into the lap of a shaking communications ensign. The man's pants didn't suddenly dampen because of the cup. It was empty, just like the man's bladder suddenly became.

The dark knight hadn't anticipated Apple's force ability to prevent the pirates' return fire. It was a technique that he himself hadn't even perfected on such a grand scale. And there she was, a young girl, holding off a small armada. He was beyond proud. The turn of events was rather… he smiled behind his mask… favorable.

"Enough of your childish, impotent attempts at warfare! Did you lowly pirates honestly think," Kylo's audio-filtered voice emphasized the 'k' sound, "that you would survive against us?"

Apple whispered through puckering lips. "I can't hold this for very long. Really hungry right now."

The Dark Knight shifted his eyes to her then returned to his scrutiny of the pirates. He snarled tauntingly in Hapan, "We are the superior force. Foolish criminal scum! We are the true order in the universe." His gravely voice hissed louder, "We are your superiors. And you will witness our immense firepower firsthand!"

He spun to the weapons array officers. "Open Fire." He commanded.

Nothing happened.

"Fire," he repeated more ardently. No torpedoes nor lasers whirled into action.

"Fire!" He loomed over the nearest weapon's officer menacingly, "I said, Fire!"

Fear gripped the officer as he struggled red faced to move his hands towards the triggering mechanism. His arms shook and the veins in his hands pulsed. "I can't, sir. My hands! They won't move."

Kylo snapped his head to the princess. "You're still hindering our men too?!"

"A trigger finger is a trigger finger." Apple began to tremble under the mental pressure, wafting the chiffon fabric of her sleeves. She whispered saucily, "It's kind of hard to tell the difference between whose are whose when you're blind!"

She strained dipping under the telekinetic stress, "And by Alderaan's ghosts, these people have some seriously fat—" snipped the word, "—trigger fingers."

"My noble lady," Resolder earnestly shot closer to the screen, practically hugging the imager, "I know you're scared and you don't need men to rescue you, nor did I explain myself correctly," he rattled in swift tumbling words, "but we came here to save you. You've stopped them as well so you must know it."

"Huh?" Apple lowered her hands, taken back. Her bandaged fingers relaxing slightly as she asked out the side of her mouth, "Is he serious?"

"Just release our crew, noble heiress and we'll liberate you," he said earnestly, "We'll take you back home to your family."

"Home to my family?" She echoed, struggling to keep up the force, "What are you talking about? I am home—" she stopped, lowering her hands in puckered thought, "Okay, technically not home, but…"

"By the several moons," Captain Heg'ir gasped, "She has Twi'lek prisoner syndrome: she's bonded with her captors. Hah! That's what this is."

"Whaaaat?" Apple nearly choked. "I'm not—"

"Just remain calm, noble heiress," Resolder cute her off, waving his hand down. "We'll have you back with your family in no time."

"I am with my family," she managed the rebuttal despite the heavy telekinetic load she was bearing. She quickly hiked her thumb at Kylo, "He's my nephew."

"Your nephew?" Resolder's asked, suddenly nervous. "You mean to say…"

The pirate's expression turned abashed as he looked at his suddenly angry Captain a few times before returning his attention to her, "that you're not a prisoner? And the First Order hasn't tortured and starved you?"

"No," she pouted offended. "This _is_ ," she stressed, "my home. Where my nephew is," she flipped her palm sideways at Kylo in a few quick jerks, "is my home."

"But a Star Destroyer in Hapes space?" Resolder tried again, "My perceptions are never wrong! I sensed Sith aggression."

Tension starting to dissipate, Apple chuckled as realization dawned on her. She balanced her hold on the force to flap her hand down cheerfully, "Oh, that's just Kylo. He's always aggressive. The really powerful ones are always like that."

Kylo smiled pleased.

"I sensed your hunger and pain," Resolder was getting more desperate, because an irritated vein was starting to pulse on his captain's temple.

Unsettled, he opened his palm at the screen. "And that is a First Order Star Destroyer in Hapes space."

"We're in the neutral zone to pick up dinner," Apple's expression flattened expression.

"But your hands!" Resolder burst.

"Frostbite," she answered sourly, "I got frostbite trying to save my nephew. Don't ask: I've relived that night—" her blind eyes flit to Kylo's general direction dryly, "—several times already."

"So, you're not a prisoner?" Captain Heg'ir took over the conversation, gritting his teeth at his subordinate. The younger man withered under his gaze.

"No." She puffed indignant.

"And you're not in danger?"

"Only from you."

Resolder gasped, not willing to give up, "But I sensed—"

Dropping her hands, Apple's mind started abandoning some of the more distant sets of 'trigger fingers'. "Oh come on," she wined, "We're not interested in attacking your planets. All I want is a slab sandwich from Leu's: Is that a too much to ask?"

Now free to move, the pirates reached for their weapons array.

Captain Heg'ir ordered, "Hold your stations!" He blinked at her. "Did you mean Leu's Grease Pit?"

"Yes!" Apple beamed. "You know the place?"

"Who doesn't?" The captain sounded more like an excited teenager than a pirate. "Home of the infamous slab sandwich and curly onions."

He and Apple both said in unison, "If you eat 'em, you'll never leave 'em."

"I like her," the Captain threw his head back to bellow in a loud braying guffaw, much to Resolder's embarrassment.

Kylo groaned, covering his with an aggravated palm. "Somebody shoot at someone, so we can end this brainless conversation."

"Oh you be quiet," Apple prattled at him back in Basic, reaching blindly over to straighten the rough fabric of his hantan tunic. "We're talking about Leu's Grease Pit. My stomach likes talking about Leu's Grease Pit."

"They're pirates," he informed her flatly, "You're talking with pirates about greasy food."

"Happiness is making new friends over slab sandwiches," she smoothed out the lines of his uniform in contented pats.

"They're pirates."

"They seem like nice pirates," she replied, tilted her head back to smile up at him playfully. "They came here to save me from you."

Kylo's expression darkened. "I'm not amused."

Above the turbo lift, a duct exploded open. Its lid shot across the hall to nearly take out two officers. The men dove out of the way seconds before the smoking metal square smacked into the wall behind them.

Kylo started, hand on his lightsaber then relaxed when he sensed a familiar presence.

General Hux leapt out of the duct, lithely landing on his feet in a crouched position. His overcoat tails slowly fell down after him. He rose to brush the dust off his sleeves and flick his overcoat lapels in snapping motions.

"You're late," Kylo growled.

"Had to assemble a small detonator." Hux made his way across the command walkway in fuming strides. "Kill anyone yet?'

"No."

"Good," an intense anger erupted in his light eyes, "I'm in the mood to do it myself."

Hux positioned himself at the best advantage point in front of the screen and regarded the pirates with potent malignancy. "I am General Hux, and I understand that you are delaying my ship."

"Well…" Captain Heg'ir scratched the back of his head. "It appears that there was a slight—" irritated glare at Resolder "—misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Hux was far from impressed.

"They came here for the uh…" Commander Rokens paused changing his course of expression, "Lord Ren's aunt."

Hux's shoulders stiffened. A Two-H-Seven-V class data box droid whirred around his boots before he replied. A deadly twitch on the corner of his mouth started. "Come again?"

 *******I apologize for any grammar errors, but like I said before, I've only got enough time to write rough drafts. Thank you for your reviews. Keep writing them because I love reading them.******


	18. Chapter 18

******I apologize about the long wait for this chapter, but I have been working around the clock so I haven't had any time to write. Also, there is a scene that I owe one of my readers that I have been working on but am unable to post it later.**

 **Please bear with me on the grammar errors, if there are any. I don't have time to edit these posts. Please send in reviews. I love to hear from all of you. I hope you like these new scenes.*******

General Hux narrowed his heterochromic eyes at the pirates, not particularly inclined to vex over the scrimmage outcome with the marauders. But like all military strategists, he simply couldn't restrain himself from stacking the battle's probabilities. Except it was a heartless game to him… a heartless and vengeful game—which he relished manipulating until the obliteration of his adversaries. He twitched two fingers behind his back in a sharp side motion, signaling Commander Rokens to initiate his tactical position in response to the first three frigates. He was determined to blow them out of the game before they could alter their turret sequence parameters.

Hapes technology may not have possessed the aggressive propulsion systems and turbolaser canons boasted by the First Order's much more expansive ships, but it did maintain its own advantages. All Hapan ships were engineered to be versatile in diverse settings, able to thrust in multiple vectors at a moment's notice. The female designers obviously favored beautiful aestheticism, but they coupled it with a multifunctional and instantaneous thrusting conception, and a menagerie of spinning turrets and turboblasters. In a snap of a switch, a single Hapes frigate could transform into a flipping and spinning sphere, spewing a continuous volley of shield piercing lasers and proton torpedoes in all directions. Granted, this setting could only last a few minutes before it burnt out the ship's main overdrive, but Hux realized that it could be a game changer. History revealed, two Hapes frigates devastated the Jj'erij's entire armada less than fifteen years prior. A general to the core, he was determined to depredate any and all of the point ships' chances to perform this last-ditch maneuver. If even one ship, looped into the death spiral technique, the loss on both sides would be unsurmountable.

But General Hux could have cared less about losses at that point. He harbored more unspoken bloodlust than even Kylo Ren could boast. And when coupled with the fact that the pirates came to abduct the princess, his rage had become almost indomitable hidden beneath a calm icy demeanor.

Hux curled his fists tightly, causing the leather of his gloves to protest. "Where I steer my ship is of none of your concern, Captain. Nor is whom I transport." He let the unspoken indication hang in the deadly air a moment longer before continuing, "Delaying my ship is an open request for war and I am not about to renunciate from," a lethal smile slit his lips, "such a request."

Kylo Ren turned his head to the general. The hateful malignancy flashing in his eyes reflected clearly on the knight's black and silver helmet. From the corner of his vision, the general could see the sith protectively clutch the princess's shoulders. It was apparent that as much as Lord desired the pirates' demise, he worried about his aunt's safety.

The young general bit back on an exasperated sigh. Swallowing his animosity, Hux offered the pirates a backdoor… for the princess's sake. Though the temptation to rip out their throats with his own hands was highly palatable.

"You have ten parsecs to rethink your position, Captain," he challenged, "I highly suggest that you move along and find other less significant targets to play with."

The two lead pirates stopped to exchange a look. The dark haired teenager, called Resolder translating for his older Captain. The men had perfect bone structure… Hux hated them even more.

Apple plucked at the edges of the bandages on her fingers, and bit her bottom lip. "Oh General…" She said as if she was upset for him then spoke directly to the pirates in Hapan, "Could you give us," she scrunched her nose, holding up her index finger, "just one moment please?"

Hux snapped his harsh attention to her, barking. "This is not a time to—" His words caught in his throat at the sight of her adorable expression.

She flit her blind attention from him to a stout black communications officer, and said in a hushed tone, "Mute the comm array, please."

The man didn't hesitate to oblige her, flicking his fingers over the channel's controls.

With a slight mischievous smile tucking back the side of her mouth, the princess regarded Hux wistfully as if her large aquamarine eyes were dancing. She tipped her chin down and clutched her hands together, swaying her hips as if eager to tell him some juicy piece of girlish gossip.

"Your…" He automatically reached for his collar, feeling his throat suddenly tighten, "your highness."

She made her way gracefully to his side, even though she reached out her hand to blindly feel for possible metal barriers blocking her way to him. "This has all been a misunderstanding…"

The Knight of Ren groaned, "Quit your meddling, Apple. We need concrete actions here, not girlish sentiments."

"Don't be a butthead, Kylo," she stuck out her tongue at him, "it was a misunderstanding." She blindly pointed at the wall, "That force sensitive pirate thought he was doing me a favor."

They stared at her.

"Since their intentions were not to engage in war but to perform what they thought was a rescue. The only solution in this case," she continued while they just stared at her continued-blind-pointing at a wall.

A R3-D5 droid moved towards her index finger then whirred on its wheels back and forth as if if attempting to determine what she was pointing at.

Unknowing, she continued, "I can think of—being a girl so inexperienced with the matters of war as compared to you an esteemed general—is to do away with war here entirely."

Kylo tipped his head down to rub the back of his neck that the gap in his armor exposed then carefully redirected her pointed finger at the pirates images.

Embarrassed titter, she offered him a slight grin. "Thanks."

"What do you mean, 'perform a rescue'?" Hux grit his teeth at Rokens and the rest of his communication staff.

The men withered under his malevolent gaze, swiftly pretending to look anywhere else but at him.

She asked him gently, "Would you begrudge them, if you knew they were only interfering because they believed themselves to be rescuing me…" she blindly fixed his jacket's lapel, "from you?"

Cupping her hand at the side of her mouth, she whispered conspiringly to him, "They thought I was a Hapan national."

Hux shifted his eyes to Commander Rokens. He hadn't been briefed on this piece of information. "Is this correct?"

Commander Rokens shrugged, lifting both palms sheepish. Even the safety control staff had to poke their faces around him to add their timorous grins.

"It was complicated," Rokens answered unrepentantly.

Hux glowered.

The men quickly hid their faces a second time.

The princess half-swirled her position back and forth, her gown's skirts flitted against Hux's knee just above his boot as she delicately took his arm.

He took a sharp intake of breath at her touch. So warm and inviting. Something about softness of her simmered the rage inside him in an instant. He removed his attention from the men to her face.

"I don't know much about leading troops, like you do," she said in a diminutive voice, long-eyelashes fluttering subconsciously, "but… do you, a powerful man, always analyze problems from only a military standpoint?"

The top latch at his collar dug deeply into his neck. He gulped down a large lump gathering in his throat. "Military strategy…" He swallowed again as sweat beaded under his uniform's top and drenched his palms, "…dictates victory."

"Have you thought that maybe we might be able to negotiate an alliance?" She asked as if she was truthfully wondering what his opinion was on the matter.

"With pirates?" Kylo chided in.

"Yes," she gave him a cute crusty, "with pirates. Haven't you heard the old imperial adage, know your enemy and win the war."

"I've heard the adage, fire first and ask questions later," the Knight of Ren's audio-filtration didn't hide the smirk in his voice.

"These are Hapan pirates," she countered stuffily, "not rebels."

"There's a difference?" The knight asked impertinently.

Apple gasped at him in an exaggerated manner as if he had suddenly passed gas in the room.

Hux massaged his throbbing temple, "Just permit the princess to finish her thought."

Apple beamed at him. "Thank you, general."

He tugged at his collar with two-fingers this time.

"According to Thrawn's cultural analyses," she explained, "there is massive difference. Rebels are just blatant imperial-hating scumbags."

That made both men smile.

She continued, "And Hapan pirates aren't generally interested in political entanglements, especially those governed by men."

She lifted her little fist with a devilish glint in her eye. "They just want to stick it too those boorish Hapan noble women."

"Then why attack us in order to save you, your highness," Commander Rokens asked then lifted his fingers in quotation marks, "a noble Hapan woman."

"That pirate—you know the one that is a force user," she replied matter-of-factly, "he feels a familial bond between us. I didn't sense it at first, because I was distracted by trying to prevent an outright war," she gave her nephew a blind but irritated look, "but it's the truth. The Captain must either value him enough, or his family, in order to risk his ships over me based on the man's word alone."

"That's absurd," Kylo sneered. "No one's family is worth dying for."

Everyone just stared at him. Even the command staff. He may have had a reputation for being a hateful cur, but not one officer refrained from giving him the stink eye at that moment. Then again, when he spun to face him, they quickly pretended to be looking elsewhere.

Hux felt tempted to put a comforting hand on the princess's shoulder: he knew what it was like having selfish family. But the more he eyed her shoulder, the more he felt a surge of anxiety clutch at his chest.

Apple shrugged. "Eh, you're a sith," then flashed her nephew a sideways glance that lined up only with his shoulder, "Do you even know another sith? You do realize that there are always two."

"No."

The Knight of Ren was correct, the Supreme leader didn't even identify as a sith himself.

"Don't worry," she patted her nephew's arm, "we'll get you a nice, pretty sith girlfriend, so you don't have to be so uptight all the time. And then you'll figure out that family is most important."

Captain Heg'ir settled in his seat, unnerved at the lengthy pause in communication. He despised watching the silent show.

Heg'ir leaned sideways towards his Lieutenant, asking out the corner of his mouth, "What's happening? Did that little girl stick out her tongue at that Sith?"

"Yep," Resolder answered in a gulp.

He raised his eyes, bobbing his head. "That child has guts." The Captain leaned over command chair's arm, tugging at its control toggles under his fingertips. "I like her."

Resolder dropped back in his seat from sheer exhaustion, creaking the chair's synthetic fabric under his thighs. He answered, "She's placating the Sith and that General for our benefit."

The pirate captain grinned, revealing perfectly straight teeth. "See, I knew liked her." He popped the boy's arm with his fist. "Now, that's scrappy."

Resolder slowly turned to him, "You wanted to fire on her ship."

Heg'ir shrugged. "Doesn't mean I don't like her." He stopped to scratch the divot below his bottom lip, glinting at him out of the corners of his eyes. "What do you mean _her_ ship?"

"The general sees her as a princess of some sort," the teenage lieutenant furrowed his brow questioning, "or his quasi-girlfriend. I keep getting these images that he's written her name as his Mrs. over a hundred times." He touched his temple then made a face, "And he has a… life-sized drawing of her in his room?"

"Can't fault the guy for having a crush." The middle-aged Captain eyed the younger general. "Especially when she may be a princess."

The military man appeared formidable, tall and their hologram imagers were not particularly perfect with coloring

"Ooo. He's a ginger?" Heg'ir realized, poising himself with an austere smirk, "this keeps getting better. I hear those bloomin' red-headed imperials were the most volatile. Any reads on him?"

"Self-absorbed, egotistical, charismatic, high-levels of anxiety, in a high leadership position—the insignias on his lapel looks like a series of achievement awards for… I believe those are strategy and tactical skill while under fire… either that or he's a great cook. I'm still not that great with First Order rankings—and," Resolder twitched his fingers in a nervous habit, "he's irate. Completely irate."

"You…" Heg'ir wanted to jab his finger at him but the itch at the back of his belt outweighed his desire to make a nonverbal statement. He scratched it then sharply pointed at him, "are going to definitely amend this."

"When were you ever concerned about mending political relations with outsiders?"

"When they are known for destroying solar systems."

Helmsman Ce'lio swirled his chair. "Captain, I believe when the Republic blew, you said, 'oh well, there goes another government, then belched the Hapan alphabet."

A few of the other's snickered.

"A bloomin' good rendition of it too, if you ask me, but the hoodoo master over here got us entangled in a cold war with the First Order."

Resolder gasped, "It wasn't intentional."

Captain picked his ear with his pinky then flicked the gob of wax he extracted at the boy, "Boy, this whole engagement is all your fault. You and your sorcery," waved his fingers mystically, "Your hoodoo magic has us caught arguing with the First Order. And they are crazy sons of _murglaks_."

Resolder's shoulders jerked, flapping the dangling rank markers on their edges. "How was I supposed to know that she was not Hapan? In my vision, the feeling was strong that she was my family. Look at her," he opened his hand at the screen, "She looks like my grandmother. She could be my cousin for the Four Moon's sake. Only a few certain families," he stressed cryptically, "have the force, now a days. And she has the force…" He watched the pouting princess prattle on silently on his screen, "just like my mother and my grandmother."

The Captain just stared at him. "I will give you that allowance."

"The feeling was strong that we were to help her," Resolder sunk deeper in his seat, "I mean, it felt unmistakable." He grabbed his trapezius in a vice grip to rub it. "In the vision, I saw her in danger from a Sith in a black cowl," he shot his eyes to the older man's face, "and I saw myself and another man protecting her."

A considering expression crossed his captain's face. "Well… if her nephew ever has a temper tantrum then you'll get your chance."

"I don't know…" Resolder smoothed his boot self-consciously against the floor grate. "He is definitely not the Sith in my vision… The one in my vision was old and very powerful, with a deep rage unlike anything I have ever experienced before."

Heg'ir yawned. "If you weren't so good at thieving, I'd shipped you off to the first Jedi temple I'd found." He fiddled with the button on his uniform above his belt. "We really made a holy show of this one."

The Captain considered the situation carefully, rolling the lined edge of the square button between his fingertips. "On second thought, you made a holy show of this one. And you're going to be the one to fix it."

Resolver sunk lower. "They see us as pirates."

"We are pirates."

"Compared to Dre'de's faction, we're saints."

"Compared to Dre'de, a Hut is a saint," Resolder wasn't too convinced.

"We steal from the rich to give to the poor."

"Really? You're going with that?" The seventeen-year old commented flatly, "Then you must consider yourself the poorest of the poor."

A quirky smile lit Heg'ir's face. "I am a very poor unfortunate soul."

The bridge crew heartily laughed.

A blurb of static erupted over the main comm, sobering the men hastily. The general appeared on their imager, scowling.

"Let's cut these negotiations short," the First Order general's voice blasted over the channel icily.

Heg'ir's shoulders tensed.

The First Order leader stared them down, an intense fire burning in his eyes. "I am a busy man and don't have all day."

A small form popped on the screen in front of him with a bright grin on her cherub-like face. "What General Hux means to say is…" the princess's grin widened, "how do you feel about sharing some Leu's slab sandwiches with us?"

Heg'ir relaxed with a toothy-grin. "Perfectly amiable, _Shakal_." He shared his grin with the rest of his command crew, whom returned his relief. "We'll bring the wine."

 ******Thank you for reading. I will have the next chapter up shortly. Please send in reviews, I really appreciate them.******


	19. Chapter 19

General Hux sat back in his command chair, bottle of Corellian brandy clutched in his fist. "That battle went…" He glanced around for a glass. "… surprisingly well."

"Battle? What battle?" Kylo Ren's mask accentuated the gritty sarcasm in his audio-filtered voice. "I didn't witness a battle; I witnessed you inviting a horde of pirates over for dinner."

"A minor setback," Hux replied. Not immediately spotting a glass in his pristine clean-lined office, he popped the bottle's cork lid off with his thumb and threw back a swig. He grimaced at the burn in his throat, then managed, "very minor."

Kylo nearly laughed. "So that's what this is?" He waved his hand and several holograms appeared under the screen lines hanging about the austere office. Multiple security images of various locations appeared.

The imagers erupted the holograms in a series of beams to focus on angles of the lounge on a half-deck below them, giving full view of their new guests. And there the Hapans were… in all their happy-perky glory, hugging the literal crap out of some terrified command staff. The bug-eyed First Order Officers looked two seconds away from crapping their pants when the huge marauders picked them up in overtly-friendly hugs to plant kisses on their cheeks.

A lively pirate quartet serenaded a few very uncomfortable-looking First Order officers, waving massive mugs of booze. Malt liquid tipped over the edges of their polymer-resin keggers, spewing the walls and protocol droid stuttering in a nearby corner. The officers exchanged looks and forced on awkward smiles. The three men scrunched up their shoulders like cats, pressing themselves so far back against the couch cushions away from the larger singing pirates that they could have been part of the couch themselves.

"Yes a minor setback." The dark knight snorted his disdain. He folded his arms defiantly across his broad chest, "We're not here to play host to a horde of pirates."

"No, apparently we were here to," Hux choked up on the bottle to chug down another large mouthful of booze, "buy crates of greasy food and open diplomatic relations with a caravan of space pirates, because all we had on board were field rations thanks to a few half-witted supplies officers."

Kylo regarded him simply. "Tell me you at least killed _those_ supplies officers."

"Killed them? What kind of general do you take me for?" Hux straightened himself perfunctorily in his large imposing chair. "I had them shot out an air seal, the first chance I got."

"And that's why I do not completely hate you." Kylo admitted with a half-smirk that after a moment erupted into a sinister smile, "I would relish sending those Hapans out an air seal as well."

"Go ahead," Hux swished his dark brandy then downed another gulp, "if you desire to be the one to make the princess cry."

Kylo shifted his weight. "Why should I care if she cries?"

A snicker escaped Hux's lips. He settled back in his seat with a rustling of leather. "Because viewing her tears are like witnessing one's own death: painful and unsettling."

The two men glanced past six holographic screens hovering against the metal walls, out the office's center window.

The princess could be easily spotted below, an elegant demure figure in the midst of several stormtrooper bodyguards. At her elbow, Captain Phasma loomed agitated, looking like she'd rather be on the battlefield then watching over a royal charge.

All formal nods and warm smiles, the princess ingratiated a long line of Hapes pirates into the officer's lounge, offering them containers of slab sandwiches and fried potato sticks. A true royal. She was a perfect display of diplomacy.

Hux smoothed his thumb along his bottle, coaxing a line through the condensation on the outside of the glass. He watched as she patted the pirate Captain's arm, throwing her head back to laugh and then engaged his second-in-command in conversation as if she intended to include everyone in her welcoming light. One day out of carbonite and she still was a breathtaking sight. Perfect smiling lips. Graceful manners. Blonde hair curling past her waist. Hux drew his fingers down the length of his bottle. The princess was meant only for him.

The Knight of Ren clenched his gloved fists, scouring his thumbs against his knuckles. "Does she really have to play host to those space trash?"

"She insisted that she do this on her own," Hux didn't bother to veil his bitterness. He surveyed the princess smiling blindly at the next pirate in line. That smile should have been his.

He waved his bottle at the window, "Look at those buffoons. She's blind and they keep preening themselves as if she'd notice anyone of them…" He threw a mouthful of liquor back, then commented further, "They have no idea how far beneath her they are. As if they'd have a chance."

A breathtakingly handsome pirate quickly brushed back his dark hair to flash the princess a mega-watt grin. Turning blindly to him as she had all the previous marauders, she smiled and nodded. The man's confidence melted into a pile of idiotic blubbering and he tripped over his feet once she touched his temples.

Hux knew that she was initiating a telepathic exchange of information. Before she trotted down there to meet with the ingrates, she spent a few moments prattling on about how she could easily teach them their language in seconds.

The general watched as in one tender motion she helped the pirate—as she had the ones before him—learn the Basic language in an instant. Strangely he envied that ruffian.

"It bothers me that the pirates are in such close proximity to her," Kylo cut into the general's observation, distracting him from the princess's face.

Hux stiffened. "My soldiers are protecting her."

"Those imbeciles?" Kylo snickered then sneered menacingly, "I don't trust forceless fools to protect themselves—I have my doubts that they can adequately protect her."

"If you are so concerned that my highest-performing soldiers are insufficient to the task, then why aren't you down there at her side," Hux glared sharply.

Kylo admitted after a moment, "Apple forbade me."

"Forbade you too?" The general nearly choked on a laugh, then asked skeptically, "When do you ever do comply to restraint?"

Kylo lifted his lightsaber to spin it telekinetically on his fingertip, "This isn't restraint. She knows how much I relish decapitating people. Apple just didn't want me to get blood-ash on her dress."

Hux smirked. "Of course. Clever," emphasized the word to needle the dark knight, "princess. She prevented your actions from brokering a… liability at this time."

"I am the liability now?" Kylo didn't bother to put away his lightsaber, instead he ignited it dragging it's tip along the metal floor as he walked towards the windows, "This whole interlude is the liability."

"Lord Ren," Hux frowned, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't ruin my floor."

Kylo made a few more slashes into the floor before shutting off his saber. He flashed him an obscene gesture. "You worry about your floor when Apple is exposed and vulnerable in the midst of criminals. She's a naive mouse; they'll shred her in negotiations."

"Highly doubtful," Hux retorted. "She's a first rate diplomat." He stopped suddenly uneasy, and downed another chug of brandy, "I should be down there with her."

"Why aren't you?" Lord Ren said as more of an accusation than a question. "Then again, you might cave as well. Then again," he tipped his head sneeringly at the general's brandy, "sucking away from the bottle, they'd most certainly consider you one of them."

Hux went to take another chug from his bottle then realized what Kylo meant. He shot the dark knight a dirty look. "Just as your lack of manners would suit them just the same."

Kylo slit his eyes at him then snickered. "Look at us, up here because a single girl requested it, while she placates the sons of Tairns down there."

The general snipped, "This whole thing is not my particular turn of events either," he waved his hand in front of his top desk drawer's security sensor, "but the princess importuned that we observe their cultural interactions and manners from a distance before engaging them. It was a tactic that Grand Admiral Thrawn utilized… and I agree with her estimation. It gives us the advantage."

The desk's sensor light blinked a somber blue, recognizing his touch. With a click, the drawer opened softly to his hand. He rifled threw it for a glass. "She's correct… as always."

"As always?" Kylo sniggered. He stalked towards the windows, disrupting a few of the security holograms with his dark form. The images morphed into vapor particles before reconstituting after he past through them. "You hardly even know her."

Hux glanced up from his cup hunt just long enough to snort a scoff. "You've had but one day with her as well, yet you have the audacity to speak as though you are more expert on her dealings than I."

"Are you blind?" Kylo sneered, his mask's filtration making it sound like more of a growling sigh than a sneer. "This was all a ploy on her part to spare the barbarians."

"To spare them?" Finding a crystal tumbler, Hux poured himself a cupful, glancing up at Kylo momentarily. "Or to spare us?"

"Us?" The dark knight burst then threw his head back with a sardonic laugh. He sobered sharply, thrusting his sarcasm in with the sharpness of a blade, "Now you are completely mistaken; she knows how powerful _I am_."

Hux gripped his glass tumbler firmly. The holograms reflected their images onto the ebony surface of his black desk. Grinding his molars together, the general curled his chin down to coldly glare at the sith. "What are you insinuating, Lord Ren?" He said the knight's name as if labeling a bad diarrheal infection.

"Perhaps, general," Kylo padded across large office towards him, his leather boots clacking against the spotless metallic floor. He plunked on the arm of a brisk navy couch to lean his upper body towards the military man placing his hands on his knees. "…Apple has such a lack of faith in your so-called leadership that she felt forced to resort to mischievousness to spare our ship a loss in war."

Glass at his lips, Hux froze. The dark brandy swirled in his cup from the stiff and irritated motion. After a moment, his lips broke into a self-assured smile that he knew tempted the dark lord to choke him.

"My ship," Hux corrected him arrogantly, "and it is not a lack of faith that moved her towards this accord…"

He leaned over his desk, malignant glee glinting in his pale blue eyes. "…Even blind, she's made it clear that she can still see the First Order's power in my leadership. She seized the opportunity to formalize an alliance in an otherwise unobtainable sector and I implemented it." With an obsessed smile, he swirled the brandy in his cup. "It's as though we think as one."

The amber-hued lights in the corners of Hux's office flickered several minute sequences before the Knight of Ren finished gritting his teeth in frustration.

"An alliance with pirates," Kylo commented sourly, "You two concocted an alliance with Hapes pirates."

"Exactly…" General Hux kicked his boot up on the foot rest beneath his desk. "…opening up this once-closed sector to First Order belief system and trade. And it couldn't come at a more opportune moment."

"They are pirates," The dark knight was like a rancor with a bone. "Pirates can—"

"—smuggle with the best of them," Hux cut him off, tone frigid, "I'm surprised at your prejudice, _Solo_ , considering _your_ background."

Kylo moved his hand to his saber, words deliberate and menacing. "Address me by that name again and I will cut you down." The dark knight's breathing intensified with a burning engorgement of anger. As he glowered, metallic objects and furniture around the room began jittering and rattling under his mental pressure.

Hux kept his stare forward at his opponent, hatefully determined not to flinch under such a display of the force. He added in a straight tone, "Fine. Consider this a failure if you desire."

Abandoning his empty bottle, the young general stood to peruse the room for another. "This still opens the Hapes Circle to the First Order in ways that hadn't been available to us previously. From this, we will broker the upper hand."

He tipped his head in admittance, "Albeit the idea was a little haphazard," his smile sucked into his cheek, amused, "the princess, despite her untoward tactics, is very resourceful. We must give the exquisite creature that."

"And she is responsible for this mess," the dark knight waved his arm at the holographic images of a mass of chest-bumping pirates. One ruffian brazenly used a F7-P9 droid as a urinal.

Hux's eyes widened at the line of Hapes pirates dancing to some unheard music below. The handsome thugs partied like it was the end of the Republic, hugging each other's shoulders in a chorus line while throwing up some disturbingly high kicks for men, nearly kicking over a few vases. Others massed in the lounge scarfing down greasy slab sandwiches.

Kylo smirked, "if all else fails, we can hire them to entertain our enemies. Look that one over there can lick his own toe. Impressive."

Desperately foraging for a bottle of his hardest whisky, Hux glanced at the activities occurring on the level below and grimaced. Cracking the top off, he poured himself a cup to empty it in one gulp. After a twisted gasp at the acridness of his liquor, he managed through his dry throat, "We can't blame the princess for that." He added under his breath, "We can't blame even a Hut for that."

He gasped in horror. "Holy Blessed Moons, is that a air-toilet they hauled in there?"

"Apparently, it's good Hapes culture to bring your own latrine to a party and…" Kylo commented placidly, "use it mix your drinks in. Nice. This is definitely one of the best decisions you've ever made, general."

Hux's communicator beeped. He thumbed it, agitated, "Yes?"

"General Hux," Dr. Wintlock's steady voice came on the channel. "We have a slight problem."

"What is it now?" He snipped.

"We need to delouse the ship," the physician explained matter-of-factly.

"The pirates will leave as soon as the accord has been—" Hux cut himself off with a gasp at the scene below. "By the Stars is that a protocol droid wearing Senior Safety Officer Jeh's pants?"

Kylo happily got a better look. "Yes. In a matter or fact it is. And there is Officer Jeh… hidden under the coffee table without them."

The general made a disturbed face as the marauders took selfies with the droid they sat on their toilet with Jeh's trousers down around his metal ankles, "By the Emperor's black heart, do they have any sense of decorum?"

Unsettled, he spoke distractedly into the communicator, "Doctor, I can assure you that the pirates will be gone by 2100."

"With all due respect sir," Wintlock explained directly, "that's not exactly the issue at hand. The pirates have actual space lice and the insects have infested the ship."

The young general's eyes went wide. "What?!" He yelled at full throttle.

Kylo snickered. "Priceless."

A short pause and the physician continued, "The lice have spread into the ventilation systems. Within the hour, every room will be—"

"Initiate the fumigation systems," Hux didn't let him finish. Skin crawling at the idea of the space lice, he started subconsciously itching the back of his neck.

"I'll make the announcement—" the doctor began.

"I said," Hux gripped his communicator in white knuckled fist, not mincing words, "Initiate the fumigation sequence now!"

"As you wish, general." The channel shut off.

Hux dropped his head.

Kylo made his way to the windows to glance down. "Is that a Grade A Vent the princess is standing over?"

The general's head snapped up, eyes bulging. "Oh no."

Within seconds the ventilation systems whirred on across the ship, spewing pink powder, orange foam, and green gas. The princess's audible shriek could be heard even up in his office, followed by an explosion of slab sandwiches splatting against the window. The orange soaked meat slid down the glass leaving trails of condiments and foam.

Kylo removed his mask to get a better view below. A laughing grin darkened his features. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

 ******I hope you enjoyed this short piece. There is more to come. Please send in reviews. I love to hear what you think of my work. ******


	20. Chapter 20

Kylo covered a snicker with the crook of his elbow as the princess tottered into the office doused in orange foam and slab sandwich guts. "I take it the negotiations went splendidly?"

Arms outstretched to the sides, Apple gingerly stepped into the room sporting a stance of supreme 'ick.' "What? You kidding?" she quipped, laughingly, "Everyone loves a good food fight with the ventilation systems."

"I'm sure," he chortled, fingers twitching on the inside of his helmet's strappings as he held it nestled under his arm. The stench of insecticide and greasy cold-cuts wafted off the princess in tufts.

She chuckled, half-irritated half-amused. "You know what they say, it's all fun and games until the greasy meat explodes in foam and smoke."

Kylo tipped his chin down entertained at her candor, but her stench was overwhelming. He popped his helmet's latching system with his thumb to open it, ready to put it back on.

The princess turned back to the two sandwich-blasted stormtroopers accompanying her. "Thank you gentlemen. I think I'll be fine from here."

The soldiers saluted her, flicking globs of the foam and pieces of meat on the polished curved doorway. Despite looking like they were on the losing end of a salami sandwich smackdown, the two men maintained the First Order soldier pride with lifted chests, sharp movements, and meat chunks on their helmets. They paused only long enough to flank the door after she entered, then marched off leaving a trail of foam and food behind them. Sweeper droids whirred into action mopping the floor after their steps.

"Okay," she faced her nephew testy, "What happened out there? The ship's annual spring cleaning suddenly decide to blow up the food? Because wow, that was some pretty gross cleaning solution and it completely killed my dinner. I mean, I only got a few fried potato sticks before the ship decided to spew goo. Not only did it ruin my dinner, but now I smell like a heady aroma of armpit, puke, and bug spray."

The dark knight snickered, "True. You do stink worse than a T _auntaun_."

She flashed him an epic stink face and stomp-stepped her bandaged feet a few times. "Don't make me beat you. I'm serious," she said then chuckled heartily, "what happened out there?"

"The pirates had lice," he explained blandly, "so the ship's fumigation system activated."

"Lice?" Apple squeaked, scrunching up her shoulders and making a face like a horrified kitten. "Ewe! Spray away. Spray away." She waved her hand in front of her face, long drenched sleeve flinging foam on a nearby computer console, "I won't even care how bad it stinks." She paused thoughtfully, "Although a couple times, I think I heard a few officers dry heaving out there."

Kylo burst out laughing. "No, Apple, that wasn't dry heaving."

"Ewe!' She complained, making a face. "Well… that does explain the sudden effervescence of vomit afterward."

Changing the subject, the princess let out a long sigh. "Anyway, I really do need handmaids or ladies-in-waiting, because Captain Phasma is awful as one."

Kylo nearly choked on a laugh. He glanced at the holograms, hovering about the office spotting the tall broad-shouldered woman bossing the cleaning crew around. "I can't imagine why not."

"When I asked her if I had something on my face," Apple explained aghast and petulant. She swiped her hands down her sleeves wiping food particles and foam onto the floor, "do you know what she said?"

Kylo was too amused. "Please. Indulge me."

The princess leaned towards him, whispering conspiringly, "She said, 'shame and humiliation.' Shame and humiliation on my face!"

The dark knight didn't bother to hide his laugh, the corner of his mouth flitting up in an amused smirk.

Apple pouted, a little saucily, "It's not funny. She wouldn't even tell me if I had some food on my face. How am I to be taken seriously if I have food on my face?"

She folded her arms in a huff, mouth puckering in an impish pout. A pickle on her cheek slid with the movement. She gingerly brushed back her hair, blindly missing the pickle slice altogether.

Smirk widening, he passed through the holograms towards her. He plucked the pickle off her face to toss it aside. "I'm sure you will manage."

"Did you just pull a pickle off my face?" She asked flatly.

"No."

"Don't lie to me." She gave him a skeptical teasing-stink face. "Was that a pickle on my face?"

"No," he chuckled. "It was…" his taunting smile widened, "shame and humiliation."

Apple burst out laughing and smacked his arm. "Shut up." She lifted her head to scan the room with her blind eyes. "So, anyway, where is our esteemed general? I thought he was up here with you."

Kylo shrugged, apathetic. "He left."

"Left?" She asked frowning, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Something about the way she disappointedly frowned over Hux's absence agitated him.

"We were supposed to have dinner all together," she considered, "Maybe he already ate."

The Knight of Ren snickered. "I can't believe you can even think of food when you smell like the inside of a garbage compacter."

Apple squinted her eyes and curled her mouth at him playfully irate, "Hush." Her lips broke into a smile, "I always think of food… and shopping, and new shoes, and those cute little furry creatures on Heversford. My mind is always kept busy with wonderful things." She stopped to star wistfully at his face, smile wobbling as her eyes widened.

With a wry grin, Kylo instead lifted his helmet to put it back on. "Sometimes, I question your sanity."

"Don't!" she said suddenly.

He stopped, startled. "What? Question your insanity? You do realize that it will happen regardless"

"No." Apple dismissed his ribbing question, waving her hand impatiently. "I meant don't put on your helmet yet." Her eyes lingered on his face quizzically. She gently pushed down his arm, explaining, "I really like being able to see your face."

With a scornful snort, Kylo held firmly onto his helmet, "You reek. Go take a bath."

She laughed. "What are you talking about? I smell delightful." Flicking her hair back spraying foam and lettuce on the wall, she reached out her arms to him. "You know you want a big hug." She opened and closed her hands playfully. "Come here, come get a big… stinky… foamy hug from your aunt."

He shot backwards a few lithely steps. "Don't touch me."

"Oh?" She teased. "What'd you say? You really want a hug."

The odor emanating off her was burning his nose hairs. But there she was teasing him with a hug. And something about the muck-covered princess holding out her arms to him made him hesitate.

He lifted his helmet again, smirking, "you really do smell like the backside of a bantha." He went to put it back on.

"I know that this stuff reeks." She pouted, catching his arm. "But please don't put on your helmet."

He smoothed his fingers along the edge of his helmet, itching to put it back on before he lost a few nose hairs. "You need a shower before that stars-awful fodder eats through your skin."

"I was planning on it." Nibbling on her bottom lip, Apple dropped her arms to shrug up her shoulders in an almost childlike expression. "But don't put on your helmet just yet. This is the first time I can see the color of your eyes and I just want to see them for a little longer."

Despite his reserve, Kylo's heart suddenly beat faster. "Is your sight finally improving?"

"A little." She grinned then shrugged again, swirling her hips back and forth shyly. "I still can't see things that aren't organic. But right now I can finally make out the details of your face, which is new and just started happening a few moments ago." Her aquamarine eyes stared at him penetratingly. "It's a little like looking through a hazy filter and the colors are distorted a bit, but I can definitely see your face." She smiled a toothy smile. "And it's a face that I like looking at. It makes me happy to finally see…" Her smile wavered, "at least to see something."

He slowly lowered his helmet, but didn't respond. Moistening his lips, he pierced them.

"Your eyes are so blue." She told him straightly without avarice. "They remind me of my father's eyes. I never really saw his in person, but—" Suddenly embarrassed, she pulled away from him and padded over to a leather chair on the other side of the room, carefully reaching out for possible inanimate objects. "I found some old images of him and your grandmother together from their youth. You have his eyes. Does your mother have blue eyes?" She hit the general's desk that blocked her from the chair. Fingers feeling around it's synthetic surface, she frowned, grumbling, "Is this a table? Why can't I still see a dumb table?"

"It's a desk," he dissuaded her distraction then answered her prior question, "My mother's eyes are brown."

"Your father have blue eyes?"

"No."

"See," she beamed, deciding to use the desk instead as a seat, "I knew it." She hefted her small form up onto the desktop. "You inherited your grandfather's eyes. You're so much like him," her smile wavered as her eyes misted over. She looked away. "I miss father terribly."

His black eyebrows shot up then furrowed. He made his way over to her in a few long strides. "I will avenge Darth Vader's death." He slapped his palm down on the desk to the side of her. "And I will finish his work. When your eyes are healed, you will see his dream and goals realized by my hand."

She brushed away a few tears with her palms in unsure strokes then smiled for his benefit. "I believe you will achieve greatness, Kylo." Her eyes flitted to scan his face as if studying his every feature. "There is so much of him in you."

He leaned closer to her. "The real question is, how much of him… is really in you?"

An aromatic wave of bug spray, vomit, and refuse smacked into him. He reeled his head back. "Gack! You smell atrocious." He covered his nose with the back of his arm. "Take a bath."

She threw back her head and laughed. A significant whirring sound erupted overhead ending her laugh into a gasp.

"By Alderaan's ghosts," Apple glanced blindly up at the ceiling, "Not again."

"Down!" He snatched her around the waist, pulling her to the floor.

With a gurgling splatter, the ship's ventilation system spewed a sticky purple slime, spraying them. Apple yelped, hiding her head under her nephew's chest. Sputtering the vents rumbled, barfing out the remainder of the slime, before hitting them with a hefty dose of orange foam and green smoke.

After the fumigation onslaught subsided. Kylo lifted his head, purple slime oozing off his black hair to the metal floor. "I blame you for this," he told her contemptuously, "you and your lice-ridden pirate friends."

She glanced back up at him with a weak smile. "Well, on the side of the Bright Moon, at least we are louse-free."

He dropped his head with a groan then slowly got up, angrily flicking goo off himself. "We were louse-free before they came on the ship."

"Cup's half-full," she reminded him with a tickling grin. "Cup's half-full."

He grunted a stiff complaint, but didn't comment otherwise. Instead, he just snatched his helmet to shake the slime out of it. He grumbled irritatedly, sitting back to fish handfuls of goo out of the helmet's visor.

Apple laughed delightedly. Hair coated in purple slime, she pushed back a sticky lock behind her ear as she twitched her eyebrows. "Oh come on, it's not that bad." She flicked the goo off her fingers onto the nearby couch. "Just think of it like a nice smelly mud bath." She winked, "Maybe it's good for the skin."

She watched him dump more out of his helmet and covered her giggle with a sticky hand. "Or maybe its good for helmets."

Getting some slime in her mouth, she gagged spitting it out. "Ewe gross, it got in my mouth. It got in my mouth," she complained, making a face, "And it tastes like stinky feet."

He snickered. "Maybe it's good for…" He stood and offered her his hand with a smirk, "… your mouth."

"Hah, hah, funny." She made a puckering stink face at him then reached for his hand.

The door hissed open, catching their attention. General Hux stepped in the office and gasped. To Hux's horror, there on the ground in a large puddle of foam and goo was the princess submerged in slime and powder.

"By the stars!" He fumbled for his uniform's collar. "What the blazes happened in here?"

Apple's lips broke into a delighted smile. "General!"

Kylo shifted his eyes from her happy expression to the general and back. He retracted his hand slowly, curling it into a fist. A sudden surge of frustration filled him.

Apple tried to stand but she slipped and slid on her goo-covered fabric slippers, falling back down on her rump. "Oww."

"Your highness," Hux headed for her. He paused in his steps, rapidly blinking his eyes and nostrils twitching.

The young general reached out his gloved hand to her, wrinkling his nose against the atrocious odor perfuming off her. "Allow me to help you up."

Narrowing his eyes into slits at him, Kylo lifted the princess's light form up before the military man could reach her. "That won't be necessary."

Careful not to slip on the insecticide slime drenching his floor, Hux lowered his hand features darkening. "Of course."

"This is all your fault." Kylo sharply pointed at the general's chest, fling a glob of lilac ooze onto the man's starched uniform.

Hux made a face down at the slime splatter. The slime strung like a long violet booger from his chest to Kylo's index finger. "I see phase two of the fumigation sequence has been initiated."

The young general turned his attention to the princess, swallowing a lump of nervousness. "Your highness, you may use my adjoining washroom. I'll have an officer bring you a change of clothes."

"Thank you, general," she procured him a sweet and grateful smile

Hux gaped at her and straightened his uniform. Tugging at his collar, he sputtered, "Of course, your highness."

A dark shadow covered the Knight of Ren's face. He flipped two fingers in a circle, telekinetically forcing Hux's feet out from under him. The general face-planted in the slime with a loud thud.

Apple gasped going to his side. "Are you okay?"

Hux lifted himself up onto all fours. "Fine," he managed. Face covered in slime, he shot a filthy look at the Knight of Ren. "You did that on purpose?"

Kylo blinked, all false innocence and concern. "Did I?" With a snicker, he stalked out the door.

Apple waited until the door hiss shut behind him to shake her head. She carefully helped Hux to his feet. "You're lucky. Most sith just kill people. He must really like you."

Irritated, Hux wiped the slime from his face in one sweeping motion. "Yes…he simply…." A glob of purple ooze dropped from his hair onto his nose in one big plop. "…adores me."

Apple bit on her lip to stifle her laughter. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He sent a sideways glance at the princess and his features reddened. "I… would prefer that you were first."

She nibbled on her bottom lip more, not prepared to argue with him. "Lead the way then."

Apple blinked her somewhat blind eyes at the general's washroom. It was in one word, synthetic. She couldn't see a lick of it, except some edges where the light reflected. Instead of a large black blur with organic materials highlighted in midichlorians, she now could see a large light blur.

"There is the shower. The controls are on three of the walls. And out here, are the linen towels and toiletries…" He rubbed the back of his neck, "they're… uh, men's toiletries, I mean my toiletries but you… you can use them."

Apple blinked at him, his form was focusing under her gaze. She could now begin to distinguish his features from his aura, but as she glanced at where he indicated the shower was… she could still see nothing.

She dropped her head, cheeks flushing. "I can't see the shower."

He tugged at his collar for a long moment, breathing soundly harsher before he managed to launch into a spiel about the washer's operating system. Anxiety oozed out of his aura as he took her hand, guiding her into the shower, haltingly explaining the water initiation sequences. "It is a…" He tugged at his collar, sweating profusely, "state of the art sequential cleansing sequence. The soap and hair conditioners are built in and activate when particular codes are entered. Uh… you…" he said quickly, "any user can alter the speed and intensity of the water here and here. The door can also lock allowing… uh, a person to alter this shower into a tub or a sauna of a.. uh… person's choosing. The drain vents on the sides of the floor keep the water levels accurate and prevent the door from opening before the user's bath is finished. The suction can be intense if a person is close to one," he said skittishly, "but the shower's design keeps a person in the center away from the drains. It's the most powerful shower unit in the universe."

"You just had to have the most powerful electronic shower, didn't you?" She teased. "Is that a man thing?"

He blushed, "I… uh…" He quickly changed the subject. "The temperature gauges are above you and this is the main control pad."

The general guided her wrist to the control panel. She slid her fingers along the slick, flat surface. "There are no buttons," Apple commented concerned.

"It's a touch pad. Here, allow me to show you," he took her hand and moved her fingers across the control panel. He held her hand gently, curling his arm along the outside of hers. He stopped. She could sense an increasing amount of anxiety waft from him, but he didn't remove his hand from hers. Instead, he froze.

She glanced back at him, seeing for the first time his features. The general gulped under the pressure of her gaze. He had wide large blue-green eyes with flecks of gold in them, high-cheekbones, and perfectly cut auburn hair. He was a lot younger than she had thought previously.

"I didn't know you were so young," she commented.

His face flushed and he rapidly blinked his eyes, "I'm twenty-one."

"I turn seventeen next month," she studied his features carefully, appreciating the fact that she was beginning to be able to see again. "You are only four years older than me. I'm impressed that you are general at such a young age."

He swallowed a large lump in his throat. "It's as though, for the first time, you are looking directly at me," he blurted then his face reddened and his aura swirled with a the pink haze of sudden embarrassment. He looked away from her.

"I am," she replied. "Perhaps, being sprayed with the insecticide goo," her lips broke into a teasing smile, "helped my eyesight. I can finally see your face."

He snapped his attention back to her, mouth struggling against an uncharacteristically happy grin. "Your eyes are healing." His elation surprised her. "This… this is capitol!" He snatched her into a hug. Cupping the back of her head in his hand, he embraced her against his chest. "I've waited for you all my life," he whispered against her goo covered hair. "I've waited fro you to see me." He held her close for a long moment.

"Ummm, general?" Apple asked against his chest. "Getting a little awkward."

He jumped back away from her, pushing her away from himself at the same time. She fell back into the shower's controls as he smacked against the polymer door, accidentally shutting it. An audible click drew the color from their faces. The water rained down on them from the ceiling faucet.

Panicked, Apple blindly punched her finger on the main control pad.

"Don't! Not the maximum setting!" Hux reached for her but it was too late, several wall shower heads shot water out at them from all directions.

"How do we stop it?" Apple shouted over the intense blasts of water, holding up her hands against the blasting walls of water affronting her. The shower nozzles shot out powerful streams of water the width of a man's neck at them, filling the shower to their thighs in a matter of seconds.

"As long as the drain vents are operational," Hux struggled against the typhoon shooting out of the wall in front of him, pushing him back against the center. He reached for the control panel, "then we can shut off the sequence. It's supposed to be top of the line," he attempted to punch in the termination sequence. "But apparently, now is the first time that it's not working."

Gritting her teeth, she yanked on the door's metal handle. "I'd get my money back!" Her grip slipped as she pulled, throwing her back into the water.

He pulled out his communicator. "Commander Rokens," he called into the dripping disc. Static answered him. "It's soaked." He smacked his fist against the shower's communicator; it only sparked in response.

Suddenly, Apple's skirts jerked downward. "It's got my dress!"

The powerful drain vents at the edges of the shower snagged her petticoat, ripping her off her feet. In a flash, Apple was sucked under the now waist high water. The aft drain gobbled up her gown, dragging her under. Hux snatched arm, pulling her out of the rising water as the shower tore off her petticoat to devour it.

"It nearly ate me," she clung to him, shivering. "Your shower nearly ate me."

A loud gurgling noise erupted, ending in a final sputter as the chewing up of her gown came to a grinding halt.

"Please say that wasn't the drain choking on my dress," Apple said flatly.

Hux glanced down around them then started kicking at the door. "We've got to get out or we'll drown!"

Apple joined him in banging on the door. "Who builds these kind of showers?!"

"When I find out," Hux pushed his body back against the wall to stomp his boot down on the lock, "I will kill them myself.

Another set of shower heads whirred springing into action, shooting them with diagonal streams. The water swiftly rose to Apple's neck.

"Why?" She cried, "Why in the universe would you want this many shower heads?"

"It was top of the line," Hux answered, sheepishly then gave her a snarky sideways look, "Can't you just use the force to get us out of here?"

"I've never used the force like this before," she waded her arms and legs to keep her head above the water then snipped, "because I've never been attacked by a shower before."

"For the love of the Seven Great Stars," Hux shouted above the rush of the water, "just try!"

Apple concentrated, despite the constant barrage of water spouts hitting her from all different directions. The door rattled then exploded open, and the flood gates opened.

In a flush of water with the magnitude of a waterfall, they fell out of the shower onto the hard metal floor, coughing and choking. Water pummeled them, gushing out of the cursed thing with the fury of a waterfall. Exhausted Apple raised her hand and the controls sparked, shutting down the sequence. She dropped her arm, beat.

"Why didn't you…" Hux coughed, depleted, "do that earlier?"

"Didn't know…" She coughed, sprawled like a wasted starfish on the tile floor, "I could." She glanced at him, cheesy expression, "First time for everything?"

He just covered his face with a wet-gloved hand and groaned.

"Look on the bright moon," she smiled hopeful, "we're clean now."

With that Hux threw aside his hand and started laughing, the loud an unsettling laugh of a man finally unleashing a lifetime of stress in one guffaw.

Kylo burst in, panting and gripping his lightsaber. Water slushing up to the ankles on his boots, he barked. "What happened? I sensed—" He stopped himself, the moment he took everything in, shutting off his lightsaber. "Apple?" He inquired knowingly, "What did you do?"

Beyond spent, the princess pointed blearily at the destroyed showerstall. "We had some plumbing problems." She whispered conspiringly, "The shower tried to eat me."

And on that note, Kylo walked right back out.

 *******The question was asked about how much of Vader's DNA is in Apple. Very little. He still claims her as his daughter because they share some midichlorians.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. This is a rough draft, so the editing is limited. But please review. I really appreciate your reviews, and if you ask questions in them, I will definitely get back to you on them, in a PM if you are registered with this site or in the taglines of my chapter posts if you are a guest. So please review and favorite me. Thank you so much!*******


	21. Chapter 21

General Hux studied the nine pirates on the security screen. Seated around an ebony conference table and flanked on all sides by stormtroopers, the pirate leaders waited with uncharacteristic stoic patience. An aberrant aristocratic air wafted off eight of them—despite the degrading fact that their hair was dripping wet and they were wearing the generic stormtrooper-issue black undershirts and trousers. Hux would have had them stuck in the Sanitation Detail issue jumpsuits—he found them that contemptible—but they were too broad-shouldered and tall to fit anything smaller than stormtrooper garb.

Perfect-mannered. Sharp-eyed. Strong browed. They were inexplicably different from the circus of singing nitwits that compiled their crew. These few aloof men sat stylistically quiet and even bore the cleaning sequences without complaint. A seemingly formidable lot. Well…except for Captain Heg'ir. He squirreled in his acrylic chair like a bored six-year-old.

"That man has the attention span of a gnat," Hux commented with distaste.

Heg'ir sent a volley of small spitballs at the line of stormtroopers. The tiny goo-balls pattered against their helmet's. The last stormtrooper spun to him angrily.

Giving the soldier an exaggeratedly false innocent look, Heg'ir quickly pointed at Resolder. The force-wielding boy gasped at him horrified. Heg'ir just flipped his palms upward with a shrug in response, arching his mouth as if to say, 'I don't know what happened.'

"This is absurd," Hux watched the stormtroopers wipe the spitballs off their helmets in irritated swipes. He turned away from the image exasperated. "I'm beginning to regret this accord."

"Wait for it," Kylo hinted, folding his arms expectantly.

With a daring glint in his eye, Captain Heg'ir shot a ha-uge spitball out his fist at the nearest stormtrooper. The saliva-drenched goo ball smacked into the soldier's helmet almost knocking the man down.

"Nice!" Kylo clapped laughing. "Now, that's my kind of scum. Where was he even hiding that monstrocity?"

"Glad, you are entertained," Hux curled his upper lip disgusted.

"You can't tell me that this," the dark knight held his hand with a laugh at the hologram of two stormtroopers holding back their ballistic comrade, "is not diverting."

The furious trooper strained against his buddies' grip, reaching his hands out for Heg'ir's neck. The smug pirate just watched his efforts amused. He saluted the soldier, making the man so enraged that his comrades had to practically drag him from the room before he killed the maruader.

"It's almost too comical," Kylo relished the show.

The corner's of Hux's mouth turned downward. Clasping his hands behind himself, he stiffened, mind rambling through the days events. The entire day was a disaster. He wondered if everything was worth it—and paced distractedly past the stack of fast foot his crew brought in despite his own gnawing hunger.

"An incongruous mess," Hux muttered under his breath.

Now that no one was attempting to kill anyone, Kylo lost interest in the hologram. He ambled away from it to plunk on a nearby overstuffed lounge chaise. Kicking up his boot over the couch's arm, he stretched himself across the lofty pillows. He turned his head back to the general, sensing his thoughts. "If that's how you feel: Just kill them all and be done with it."

Hux twisted his upper body to face him. "No, they can still be useful."

"We can not possibly entertain the idea of forming an allegiance with these people," the dark knight griped, a deadly edge in his audio-filtered voice. "We can't trust them."

"You don't trust anyone," Hux countered. "You hate everyone equally."

"And that is why I," Kylo removed his helmet with self-satisfied smile, "am Snoke's favorite."

Hux rolled his eyes.

The Knight of Ren clunked his heavy headgear on the stand next to him before holding out his hand towards the stack of wrapped slab sandwiches. One flew effortlessly to his palm, followed closely by a slushy drink and a neon-yellow package of fried onion rings. He caught the drink in his other hand as a metal straw unwrapped itself in the air before him and the pack of rings floated onto the adjoining stand.

Hux shook his head at the telekinetic display. "It has nothing to do with your hateful demeanor; but rather your," he sneered with derision, "sorcery that he favors."

Kylo took a cocky drink from the slushy. "A sorcery that the princess shares."

Jerking his head back, Hux opened his mouth then closed it. He quickly returned his attention to the hologram of the pirates.

"Making them wait is a petty cruelty;" Kylo observed after a moment, stepping too closely into the general's thoughts again, "just torture them and get it over with."

The Knight of Ren opened his sandwich to examine it for a moment, "The interrogation chair is more than sufficient," took a bite, then continued between chewing, "to enact your revenge over delaying your ship." He took a few more hearty then closed his eyes in culinary bliss, "Apple is right: These really are savory sandwiches."

Hux just stared at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you are mildly sociopathic?"

Kylo considered it for a moment, "Yes, and they say that you are overtly psychopathic."

Hux opened his mouth to retort, but then nodded. He could accept that. "60% of geniuses are psychopaths." He flapped his hand vertically in dismissal then sneered scornfully, "Contrary to your limited observations, I am not the one making the pirate scum wait," he informed him, eyeing the sandwich in his hands with mild interest, "The princess insisted on fixing herself up before engaging in negotiations."

"What? Does she have an apparent interest in one of them?" Kylo examined his sandwich's vegetables for the best possible area to consume next before taking another bite.

The general stiffened. "No. Absolutely not! Interest in one of those lice-bitten ruffians? Hah!" A laugh cracked out his throat harshly.

Kylo lifted his eyebrows over his sandwich. "Jealous much?"

Shifting his weight, Hux clenched his fist against his side, tapping it against his thigh a few times before he strode over to the sandwiches. He snatched one and used it to point at the knight, snipping, "I am far from jealous!"

Hux opened the meat bun, asking quietly out of the side of his mouth. "Is she thinking about a particular person…anyone?" He hastily added, "I mean, to cause her to fashion herself so long."

"She is blind."

"Her eyes are healing," Hux maintained his point, "there must be some hidden reason… some thought, driving this behavior."

The Knight of Ren hesitated before snatching a napkin to emitteredly wipe his lips. "Apple's mind is like Fort Arken'ax. A practical sealed vault. There is no hearing her thoughts in this life or in the next."

He balled the napkin in a hateful fist. "I can hardly ascertain what she wants or doesn't want—her mind thwarts my mental efforts," he savagely chucked the napkin aside, "It's supernally frustrating."

Disappointed, Hux glanced away from him and distractedly took a bite of his sandwich. The most glorious flavor hit his tongue. "By the Stars! This is remarkably splendid. I have never tasted anything even remotely comparable." He gulped down a couple more hungry bites.

"You were raised on military rations," Kylo shrugged, leaving his sentence half-said as if the general's background was explanation enough.

"My mother had renowned chefs brought into our home in perpetuum," Hux said indignant then shot him a repugnant look, "The food they designed and cultivated were triumphs of aesthetic appeal and high nutrient content."

"In other words," Kylo smiled diabolically, kicking his other leg up on the couch, "tasted like banta fodder."

The general's nostrils flared but he didn't retort. About to walk away from the stack of fast food, he snatched another sandwich then reconsidered only having two, even though his hands were full. Taking a bite of his first sandwich, he snagged a third sandwich between his third and fourth fingers.

The door hissed open seconds before the princess breezed into the room.

One glance at her and Hux nearly forgot about his sandwiches. If she was beautiful before—with her hair braided on the sides with the ribbons and jewels, smelling like freshly cut flowers, and wearing a creamy brocade dress lined with gold insignias of the empire—she was now stunning.

A youthful and delightedly happy expression sparkled the rosy glow on her skin. "Good evening, gentlemen," she greeted them with a smile then her eyes zeroed in on the general's half-eaten sandwich. "A Leu's triple meat and cheese hoagie stack!"

Despite her partial blindness, she sprung on that half-eaten hoagie in seconds, snatching it from him to bite into it before he could react.

"Hey, food thief, there is a stack of sandwiches over there," Kylo snickered, pointing at the pile of fast food on the silver tray behind her.

She swallowed her bite quickly to protest, "Yes, but this," she lifted the sandwich for emphasis, "is a triple meat hoagie stack."

"Half-eaten with his mouth juice on it," Kylo explained mildly grossed.

"Don't care," she replied straight-forwardly, then continued munching down sandwich, careful to swallow before speaking, "The Grease pit only made one of these and I'm going to eat it."

Hux grinned, enamored. His face flushed slightly. "Your highness…" he began to tell her that it was his pleasure to share anything and everything with the woman of his dreams, but the words caught in his throat the instant she looked at him.

"I… uhh…" He gulped. Her large eyes flitted across his features carefully as she nibbled on his sandwich.

She paused in her munching just long enough to give the general a sheepish grin, "Sorry," her docile expression smoothed into a teasing smile, "but never get in between a girl and her favorite food." She held up the sandwich, cooing to it, "And you are my favorite food, aren't you Mr. Meat-lovers Hoagie? Yes, you are."

Hux blinked at her, torn between shock and amusement.

Digging into it with a healthy fervor, she made her way over to her nephew's chaise couch. "Lift," she waved her hand furiously up.

He removed his legs from across the couch, scrunching them towards himself.

She plunked down beside him then swooshed her hand a few times towards the couch's arm. "Alright, go ahead."

He placed his legs back onto the couch's arm across her lap.

Snapping his head back, Hux drew an inward breath at their candor with each other. Suddenly self-conscious as though he was viewing an intimate familial moment, he focused instead on unwrapping one of his other sandwiches. "You look stunning, your highness," he managed, gazing at her from the corners of his eyes.

"Thank you, general," she smiled gratefully at him, a slight dob of mustard on her cheek. She held out her hand to her nephew. "Hand me that napkin, please."

With a slit eyed expression, he snatched the napkin to slap it into her hand, "You have the force. Use it."

"Kylo," she said in a gentle voice as she patted her face with the cloth napkin daintily, "what have I told you before: I'm lazy."

"You're admitting that in front of him," Kylo chuckled, tipping his sandwich at the general.

"We almost died in a shower together," Apple explained thoughtfully and smiling, "We've bonded. General Hux is practically family now. We are best-friends-for-force." Napkin clutched in her hand she leaned towards her nephew, gutting out her chin like a little girl. "So did I get all of it off my face?"

Kylo snatched the napkin to wipe the rest of the condiment off her cheek. "Not that I care about those flea-bitten pirates—the sons of Tairn should die ignominious deaths—but why did you even bother to take so long to get ready for them? Did you fall in the toilet or something?"

She smacked his arm with a laugh. "No. Beauty increases diplomatic power," she explained matter-of-factly.

Both men lifted their heads slowly then nodded as understanding dawned on them. They exchanged a look.

Apple prattled on brightly, "Do you know how nice it is to finally be able to see one's hair enough to braid it?"

Hux grinned, rejoicing more gleefully than she appeared. He made a happy fist. "Yes, your highness, it is remarkable."

She tilted her head to him, pleased, "I do enjoy your enthusiasm about braiding hair. It's refreshing in a man."

A dark sneer curled Kylo's upper lip. "That is not what he is excited over," he flashed the young general an extortionist's grin.

Hux quickly cleared his throat and opened his hand at the hologram, eager to change the subject. "Should we keep the savages waiting so long, your highness?" He hardly cared whether they rotted in the burning depths of the underworld or not, but he wasn't about to let the knight of darkness blackmail him about his infatuation for her.

Apple's smile widened. "Oh, my darling general," she plucked a pickle from her sandwich to pop it in her mouth, "they've eaten." She pouted, snuggling down further in her seat, "I have not. And I am hungry. They know that. I told them that before I came up here. They promised to wait for me."

Kylo's black eyebrows shot upward. He snickered. "Really? Don't overestimate a woman's beauty. No man waits for too long, no matter what they promise."

"But they're not waiting for a pretty face," she replied, nonchalantly pulling back the wrapping on her sandwich to expose more of the bread and cheese, "They're waiting for a vision and a cause. They desperately need my help."

Both men stopped, giving her their undivided attention. But the princess didn't elaborate, she just continued to eat her sandwich.

Apple happily swished her tush in her seat, expression blissful. "Ooo! This hoagie is so good! Mmmm mmm mmmh!" She reached across Kylo, opening and closing her hand. "Share some of those onion rings please. Mama needs some greasy vegetables."

"What vision and cause?" Kylo asked impatiently, slapping the pack of rings in her hand.

"The end of the current Hapes Empire," she said as if it explained everything then popped a fried onion in her mouth.

She went to take another bite of her sandwich, but her nephew snatched her wrist.

"Apple…" He asked through gritted teeth, "What did you promise them?"

"Nothing," she plucked her hand from his grip and smiled playfully, "yet."

 *****Please excuse the grammar errors, I have limited time for edits.**

 **I appreciate all of your reviews and comments. Please feel free to PM me as well, and send in reviews. I really like reading them. If you want to see something in this story or have a question about something please comment. Thank you*****


	22. Chapter 22

"Out of the question," General Hux said with calm venom, "You insult me by even suggesting it!"

Tension hung thick in the conference room like a tepid fog. Despite his composure, Hux harbored a determined notion that he wouldn't hesitate having his troopers fire on the foreigners at any moment… And the Hapes men knew it—they knew it all too well.

Their precarious situation was clearly evident: Stormtroopers encircled them, rifles trained on the backs of their heads. The ship's security lasers dropped out of the ceiling with arming machinations, aiming at them from the four corners of the room. And layers of security enclosed the area just outside the barricaded doors. Nothing about the environment hinted that they would leave there alive.

"General Hux," the princess said in soft, honeyed tones. Tender and dewy-eyed, she delicately placed her hand on his arm, peering up at him from under her dark eyelashes, "please."

His malignant resolve wavered under her feminine sensitivities. "Your highness…" He cleared his throat, not particularly enjoying the idea of reprimanding her when she regarded him with such an expression.

An uncharacteristic gentle tone entered his voice, "We are in the middle of negotiations."

Blushing, Apple withdrew her hand. "Oh, please forgive my intrusion, general…" Her lips formed a pouty smile. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You have the situation under such superior control that I felt safe enough to voice a question even in the midst of your debate."

Kylo Ren leaned against the wall behind her, flipping his unlit lightsaber in the air to catch it disinterestedly in his palm over and over again. He snickered. The lightsaber stopped midair, hovering for a moment before dropping sharply into his hand.

His dark helmet slowly turned to the princess. Even he was intrigued at her sudden interjection… especially considering the circumstances. The chair next to her remained vacant for him, but he hadn't made a move to take it the entire night. He preferred his vantage point. And at that moment, his standing perspective afforded him a full view of the softening expressions on the pirates' faces. His aunt knew what she was doing.

Apple played with a ribbon. "I hope you won't find it impudent to indulge my curiosities, general…" Her bottom lip puckered more as her voice became diminutive, "but may I hear what they have to say before you decide their fate?"

Blast. How could he refuse her when she asked like that? Hux resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to tug at his uniform's collar. His social anxiety threatened to surface with a vengeance. Not willing to let the angst have the best of him, he curled his fingers into his palms and leveled his emotions.

"I will allow it." Hux nodded and he held up his hand, "Soldiers stand down."

The troopers stepped back, turning the barrels of their guns away towards the ground as the room lasers lifted back up into their compartments.

The general's eyes scrutinized the pirates hatefully, "I hope for your sakes that you have more to offer our _palaver_ ," he curled his lip with contempt at the word, "than empty promises—The First Order hardly needs your assistance, especially in regards to…" he glanced at the princess, "our imperial connexions."

Kylo pushed away from the wall to hunker over to the princess. He leaned his left arm along the back of her chair, allowing his sword hand to droop over it, saber warningly in his relaxed fist. She tilted her head back to smile up at him.

A few of the Hapes men shifted their seats in response to the closeness of the Sith Lord and glanced nervously at each other, invoking whirring sounds to erupt into action. Targeting systems activated to their slightest movements and within seconds red laser pinpoints were trained on them. Some of the pirates glanced down at the scarlet targeting-dots on themselves and squirmed, but their spokesman, Fuo'stil didn't waver—despite the four dots moving on his forehead and chest. His intense expression hardly flickered… even under the dire circumstances. The stormtrooper behind him shifted his laser rifle, clicking its cocking mechanism, but he didn't even flinch.

"We hope to offer you more than that," he replied simply after a moment. "But before we continue, I must adjunct: and ask further inquiries…"

A middle-aged man with a seasoned suavity reflected on his ruggedly handsome face, Fuo'stil sat at the center of the Hapes men, the apparent leader. It was an odd notion, considering Captain Heg'ir had ostensible leadership over the masses of pirates outside the conference room, but inside those metal walls—Fuo'stil held absolute control among that small group.

Sharp featured with salt-and-pepper-black hair slicked back way from his rich-blue eyes, he emanated a sophisticated and regal air. Previously, he had introduced himself as just Fuo'stil… not volunteering any further designation. Yet, there was good reason to believe that he in actuality held an important title, even within their matriarchal society. The theory was evidenced by the fact that the other Hapes men regarded him with formal deference.

Fuo'stil pressed his lips into a tight line. "Forgive my cultural inexperience. I am not adept in First Order societal norms—so I had been mistaken in the correct manner in which to propose our ideological petitions. And I had not had the opportunity to inquire properly beforehand…"

He leaned towards them earnestly, not willing to wait a moment longer. "Might I dare ask…or dare to hope that you might provide an answer to our humble question? By any chance would your imperial princess be related to the Queen MotherLeveria, even in but a small or distant way?"

Hux blinked rapidly then shifted his upper body to face her. He had never heard that name mentioned before, but then again, he was not privy to Hapes Consortium history.

Apple paused, moistening her lips and flicked her eyes to Hux. "May I?"

He nodded in turn.

"The name sounds familiar," she postulated then asked the pirates, "Did she have a daughter named Daev'ia?"

"Yes. The Fifth Princess." The man's brow furrowed, "But she was supposed to have disappeared from Hapes history."

"Daev'ia was my grandmother," Apple replied, "She became the first Empress to my grandfather."

Her revelation sparked an immediate response from the men, erupting them into animated chatter. They celebrated with rousing fist pumps, despite the lasers targeting their chests.

Unsure the stormtroopers followed the pirates' movements with their guns as the Hapes men leaned towards each other, enthusiastically whispering in their native tongue. They looked to Hux for orders. The general stoically waited.

Fuo'stil closed his eyes with the deepest form of relief…It was though a great weight had finally fallen from his shoulders.

A blonde pirate offered up a small prayer of gratitude, signing himself reverently as another one fervently kissed a charm hanging about his neck. More of them began offering prayers.

Hux bit back a scoff and leaned to the side as if flinging his upper body back in his chair at the absurdity.

He rotated his chin over his left shoulder to ask Commander Rokens behind him. "What's wrong with them now?"

The pudgy man stepped forward to bend at the waist, whispering, "It seems that they are praying, sir. They apparently believe that they have found something they've been searching for for years and attribute finding it to divine intervention."

"A long-lost Hapan royal line?" Hux furrowed his brow. "What could pirates possibly want with—" He shifted his eyes to the princess and quickly pressed his lips into an enraged line. His expression darkened with a deadly shadow.

Fuo'stil barked at the other pirates, silencing them in an instant. He focused back on the young General, rephrasing his words, "We are ready to negotiate any terms that you see fit. In hopes not to offend any further, we ask that you please define how a patriarchal society such as yourself would find our offer not insulting and we shall alter it accordingly? We will not stop until we obtain what we came here for."

Apple grimaced. Her eyes widened signaling a distinct warning. But it was too late. Fuo'stil had provoked him. Now, Hux was steaming angry… steaming and violently angry.

"There could be in no possible way that you could present your request which would induce us to even entertain it!" The general spat, shooting out of his seat to pound his palms against the conference tabletop. The ebony table shuddered under the onslaught.

Breathing harsh in his fury, he roared, "The imperial princess is not an object to be sold to the highest bidder! She is our future! Soldiers," he called to the troopers, deadly expression flashing in his blue eyes. "Kill them."

"General!" Apple interrupted quickly. "Please!"

The troopers halted and looked to Hux.

Ready to bark a final order, the young general snapped his attention to her, but the moment he met her eyes, he bit his tongue. The power of the force reflected in the depths of her eyes quieted his fire in an instant.

She tipped her chin down submissively, tone softening. "Please," she repeated, "For my sake."

Hux swiftly held up his hand to stay his men. "Hold."

The men lowered their weapons as the Hapans fidgeted horrified.

Apple exhaled relieved then shot him a testy look. "If you want to kill people," she puffed out her cheeks in frustrated impertinence, "go ahead, but not in front of me." She squirmed with a saucy indigence. "It's detestable."

His eyebrows shot upward and he jerked his head back. He was torn between shock and laughing. "Then what do you suggest we do here, your highness," he sat back down, "The request they made is abominable."

"It is not appropriate for imperial courtesans to make suggestions in matters of state, General Hux," she informed him with a refined air, "Such intergalactic affairs are to be administered by capable men such as yourself."

One moment the girl was chomping down on a slab sandwich and the next, reminding him, in graceful placations, of imperial court manners. A true dichotomy.

"But I am not satisfied with the current outcomes here." The princess shook her long blonde curls to emphasize her disapproval, accidentally tossing a tiny jeweled braid into his chest. "I know that I am not expert in matters of negotiation, so my observations are most likely founded in naivety," she coaxed delicately, "but as far as Hapan culture is concerned, Fuo'stil only asked you for diplomatic guidance and education. Nothing warranting their execution."

Distracted, Hux's blue eyes tracked the braid as it slid down his uniform to curl over the nook in his arm. It took considerable effort on his part to resist the urge to play with the tiny bow tied at its end. "You are not an object of exchange, your highness." The young general managed to tear his attention away from the braid to her face. "Asking for you at all…" He trailed off his words, abstaining from plucking at his suddenly tight collar. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "You belong here. And only here."

Unaware of his struggles, the princess elaborated carefully, "It was only a subordinate inquiry on his part, not a threat to abscond with me. I can sense the value they place in my safety; it's almost as strong as your own."

Impressed at her breath of cultural understanding, Hux chewed on his irritation and waved the soldiers downwards. The stormtroopers lowered their rifles, one of them noticing that their general didn't bother to move the princess's braid off his arm.

"Have you thought that…" Apple ventured, "perhaps… these men are not asking to take me away from your capable protection, but instead, are offering their lives to your service?" Her eyes opened wide in her innocence. "How could they not recognize your absolute power and capabilities? So it makes perfect sense that they would want to join your military."

Hux considered her interpretation then took on a fatherly tone, "Your highness, pirates are not trained-military; they are—"

"They're not actually pirates," Kylo spoke for the first time.

General Hux slanted his torso to the left to eyeball him, thinking, _'So the mask finally speaks_.'

Kylo offered him an obscene gesture, sneering, "Don't think I didn't hear that."

"Your point?" Hux scratched his knee above his boot.

The knight of Ren closed his fist around his saber, the leather of his glove protesting the hateful movement. Apple blinked her semi-blind eyes at him. His grip on the weapon relaxed.

"These men are Hapan nobles only disguised as pirates," Kylo explained, returning to the subject at hand.

He pointed the unlit lightsaber at Captain Heg'ir, "Except that one. He is the only real pirate."

Distracted Heg'ir waved his hand at them, mumbling the Hapan equivalent to 'What's up?,' then went back to playing the hand-held game he pickpocketed from an unsuspecting officer earlier.

"What?" Hux blinked at the dark knight incredulous.

"It's a common theme among Hapes noblemen to play space pirates," Kylo shrugged, "Crazy women nagging them all the time? Don't blame them. But these men are a different story," he postulated, not caring that he was talking about them as if they weren't there, "They are directed and craving revenge. It lingers on them, filling them with hate for their very own government. And they see Apple as the divinely inspired alternative."

Hux considered the situation carefully.

"They are very serious about offering themselves along with their entire retinue to her," Kylo slid his hands along the head of Apple's chair, "which includes their planetary holdings," the black helmet turned to Hux purposefully, "or in other words, seven outer Hapes Circle worlds."

The young general felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Silent the entire time, the sith lord had been acquiring mental intel on them. And it paid off. Plucking that information from the Hapes nobles brains was extraordinary. He glimpsed at the princess's face. From her expression, Hux could tell that she had came to the same conclusion as her nephew.

"After integrating with us, they plan to," the knight of Ren all but yawned the summary behind his mask, "supplant their current Queen Mother with Apple."

The Hapans gasped, stirring at his sudden revelation of their deepest… and most damning secret.

Hux straightened himself slowly, "Well…" A sardonic smile curled up the side of his mouth, "this is an intriguing turn of events."

The princess flashed him a sheepish smile. "I'm not sure if it is something that I would particularly like to participate in…" she began with an informal flare, "but perhaps, we should give them a chance to explain why they are so desperate to defect."

"Your highness knew?" A curly dark-haired Hapes Noble asked, half-galvanized, half-impressed.

Hux rolled his eyes. It was apparent that she knew the whole time. The princess was the emperor's granddaughter.

"I sensed it the moment your ships docked," she admitted blushing, "you're not offended that I didn't mention anything to you about it until now?"

"By the Four Moons, no!" The noble's startlingly violet eyes widened as he blithered on animatedly, "You truly are as magnanimous as the stories say. You allowed us the opportunity to present the cause ourselves even despite your superior knowledge."

His black curls flopped in his excitement. "When _Tarix_ Resolder sensed your presence, we came straightway to find you, _Shakal_ Queen Mother. You are our hope and salvation!"

Hux stifled a groan. Dramatic sons of _murlaks_.

" _Duch'da_ Kel'ir!" Fuo'stil snapped in crisp Hapan, then reprimanded coolly, "You will refrain from addressing the _Shakal_ Queen Mother unless she speaks to you first _._ "

The younger noble tipped his square-chinned face downward, immediately repentant. "My apologies, _Shakal_ Queen Mother _."_

 _Duch'da_? Hux contemplated the word. Hapan for Count. And the reference to the princess as the _Shakal_ Queen Mother was unprecedented. Lord Ren's observations were accurate.

From what the general understood of Hapes culture—which unfortunately was limited to a few studies at the Academy— no citizen referred to anyone save their Queen Mother with such an honorific. It was considered blasphemy. They were either insane or deadly serious: but one way or another, it was to his advantage.

"But why would you choose to remove your Queen Mother, when your culture remonstrates it." Apple furrowed her brow. "From infancy aren't you reared to revere and worship her?"

"Our current queen has fallen from grace," a brawny olive-skinned noble answered, clenching his fingers into white-knuckled fists, "and deserves to die."

"Of course, she's crazy," Kylo surmised, folding his arms, "The real question was how she ever achieved ' _grace,_ '" he snarked, "in the first place."

The entire group swung their heads to face him.

"I know a lot about Queen Teneniel," the knight scoffed, "She tried to force my uncle Luke into marrying her by…" he leaned towards them over Apple's chair oozing contempt, "abducting him."

"That's desperate," Commander Rokens noted with raised eyebrows.

The Dark Knight laughed derisively. "That isn't even the start of it: Banished by her own clan, she was reduced to stalking ship wreckages perchance she snag a husband."

"Alright," Rokens admitted chuckling, "I take it back. Now _that's_ desperate."

"A Singing Mountain Witch from Dathomir? Speaks volumes, doesn't it?" Kylo jeered, bringing agreeing smiles to the noblemen's faces.

He continued his rant, "Crazy as rancor in a tick nest. Desperate. Insane. Delusional. Clingy," he listed, "Two kinds of psycho, Teneniel was certifiable long before she married into Hapes royalty."

"A Mountain Witch?" Apple rotated around to rest her chin on knuckles over the back of her chair. "Is she a force user?"

He approached her side, allowing her to shift herself back around. "Hardly," he scoffed, "The Dathomir witches are poor excuses for force sensitives. They must," he held his fingers up in mocking quotation marks, "vocalize incantations in order to use the force."

The princess made a face. "Not how I was taught, but that's.…" She searched for an equitable statement then shrugged.

"Strange," she contemplated, "I witnessed the Queen Mother Ta'a Chume vow that she would never have 'spoon benders' for grandchildren. I'm surprised that she would even allow such a marriage."

"Teneniel's use of the force is limited at best," he remarked dryly, "And she strong armed the old queen into marrying her son. Or rather, she was his rebound after my mother refused him."

A frown curled the corners of her mouth. "Yes, but Ta'a Chume was a hard, cunning woman, if she had already accepted her as heir… why would the rest of the Hapes Circle refuse her now?"

"She's a murderess," a sandy haired noble hissed, the stripe of amber in emerald colored right eye flashed deep-seated hatred.

"That comes with the territory," Kylo goaded, "All your Queen Mothers are calculating killers. Even Queen Ta'a Chume had her own son…" his gravelly voice hinted of a treacherous smile, "by pirates."

The color drained from Fuo'stil's features.

"Poor Kalen," Apple shook her head, tears welling on her lashes, "He was such a good man."

Fuo'stil's expression softened, but he didn't comment for several beats. Finally, he said solemnly, "Queen Teneniel issued an order to execute all the ruling families in the Hapan Consortium."

The princess frowned deeper. "She's reacting to a fear."

"More of a hysterical paranoia." The older man nodded, shifting a graying lock into his dark-lined eyes. "But your insight is superior, Worthy One."

He paused, sucking in a long breath of air before continuing, "After a force-induced miscarriage, Queen Teneniel went into a catatonic state and became plagued by hallucinations."

"My word," Rokens gasped after a couple silent seconds.

Kylo flicked a piece of lint off his sleeve. "You were expecting anything different?"

"Obviously not," Hux agreed then articulated coldly, "What I don't see is how any of this concerns us." He checked his cuticles, "Why not just assassinate her and be done with this monarchy madness?"

"Queen Teneniel had a vision that a fair-haired descendent of the Great Leveria would be the end of her," Fuo'stil knit his thick eyebrows together, "The vision told that her reign would never end unless a descendent of the true line stood against her… one with fair hair and pure bloodlines."

The men shifted their attention to Apple. Self-conscious, she tugged at her blonde hair trying to hide it from their eyes.

Fuo'stil continued, "That descendent would change the face of Hapes culture forever and end Teneniel's reign of terror once and for all."

"So she ordered everyone from that heritage executed. Smart move on her part," Kylo commented apathetically, curtly adding, "How unfortunate for you." He yawned and glanced at his time piece. "Well, perceive the time."

Riveted, Apple flapped her hand down at him. "Kylo," she chastised then went back to the noble, "But how did you find all this out? The decree is obvious, but the rest? She wouldn't publicly announce her vision. That's something only a member of the royal household…would…" her words slowed in realization as Fuo'stil raised his eyebrows knowingly in response, "hear."

Her eyes widened then squinted at him. "Third Prince Fusolder? Is that really you?" Still blind.

"It's good to see you again after all these years, your highness." He tipped his head reverently. "You haven't changed one bit."

"Carbonite's good for the skin," she waved a dismissive hand, hurrying back to the previous discussion, "I should've known— Fuo'stil was your childhood nickname."

"It's a common enough name," he admitted, "I apologize for the deception."

"Third Prince?" Hux repeated the phrase with distaste. He stifled an impatient groan.

"Prince Consort Isolder's younger half-brother," Kylo explained further with contempt. He sneered at the older man, "Do me a favor and tell your brother to quit hitting on my mother."

"Your mother?" Fusolder blinked baffled.

Resolder leaned across the dimpled man at his right, whispering to the prince. "Princess Leia of Alderaan."

The Hapes prince froze then jerked forward suddenly enigmatic, "Is she here?"

Lord Ren threw his head back and laughed, a truly cruel sound. "Not hardly."

Fusolder slumped back in his seat disappointed… Well, if one could call a stiff falling back against the chair as slumping. He recovered his resolve quickly and asked, "But she did receive my brother's encrypted messages, didn't she? He sent her several notifications, seeking her assistance in our cause." Terrible concern crossed his chiseled brow. "The hails could have been intercepted by the Queen?"

Apple turned her upper body in her seat to face her nephew with a haphazard grin. "Oh they were definitely received." She stifled her laughter. "But I don't think they were interpreted exactly as intended."

"She was a married woman," Kylo griped harshly under his breath, "The man wrote poetry to a married woman."

"Encrypted poetry," Apple corrected, raising her index finger with a twinkle in her eye.

"She is a married woman," Kylo remonstrated.

"Was," Hux emphasized, "now she is a widow. A princess that is now a widow. Suddenly f _ree_ to marry again," his teeth grit stressing scornfully, "even to a Hapes Prince." It presented a very dangerous opportunity for the resistance.

Kylo stiffened. The helmet's audio-filtration removed all subtlety from the increasing harshness of his breaths.

Oblivious to the rage building within the dark knight, a brown-haired nobleman gripped Fusolder's shoulder with an enigmatic hand. He twitched his eyebrows, accentuating his dimples with a tawdry grin, "Your brother would be most pleased to hear this. He has always loved Princess Leia, so much that—"

Resolder elbowed him in the stomach, silencing him with an oaf sound.

Eyes on the enraged sith, he warned the older noble through clenched teeth, "You're rejoicing over the recent death of Lord Ren's father."

The man's face drained of all color. "But…" the noble dug his grave deeper, "no woman would want to remain a widow for long," and deeper, "The Crown Prince would make her an honorable replacement husband."

Now it was Kylo's turn to be angry… steaming and violently angry.

 ******I had to separate this into three chapters. Please reply with reviews. I appreciate your thoughts and comments.*****


	23. Chapter 23

Lord Ren roared, "You sent messages to our enemies for assistance, and now you have the audacity to come here and inquire for our help?!" His audio filtered voice accentuated his deadly tone, hissing, "Do you take us for fools?"

"Your enemies?" Fusolder was taken back, "Princess Leia of Alderaan is your mother. Surely, you don't—" He swiftly cut himself off, paling under the immense anger wafting off the sith.

Apple sighed. "Gentlemen, the First Order is strictly a patriarchal society. There is no forgiveness for a woman whom rebels against the true order. Enemies are enemies regardless of familial ties."

Her words hung solemnly in the air.

Determined to bring both cultures to equitable understanding, the princess shifted her attention to her nephew. She reached for his hand. "Kylo…"

His fingers dug holes into her chair, tearing into the dense fabric as if it was tissue paper.

"You are absolutely justified in your anger," she patted his knuckles with a mischievous glitter in her eyes, "but please don't take it out on my chair—I rather like my chair."

His grip relaxed.

"Besides," she pouted before plopping back lazily against the cushion, "these men adhere largely to matrilineal concepts—how could they possibly understand that your mother had been deceived into rebellion?"

He slipped his hand away, snipping hatefully, "She wasn't deceived; she did it willingly."

Apple made a puckering face at him. "Ehhhh! Don't take my bliss away from me. _I_ ," she placed her hand on her chest as he had dragged the pronoun out, "personally would like to think that _my_ sister couldn't possibly be that boorish."

She told him impishly, "Believe what you want about your mother, but I will maintain that _my sister,_ " she emphasized, "is a dutiful woman that so happened to be unfortunately brought up by misguided fools."

Kylo sniggered. "Do as you may. I know my own mother." With that, he trudged back to his surly corner.

"What I want to know…" Commander Rokens bent towards the men, changing the subject. "How in the universe did you nobles come by space lice?"

Everyone pivoted to gape at him incredulously.

"Oh my Stars, Commander!" Apple gasped mortified. "You can't just ask people how they caught…" she dropped her voice to a clandestine whisper, "space lice."

"It's a valid question, your highness," Rokens shrugged.

"Please say this wasn't your focus the whole time," Hux asked mortified.

The commander's shoulders jostled apathetically again. "It is a decisive matter, sir."

Hux steepled his fingers with a slow knowing smile. "Of course."

"Nobles are typically clean," Rokens perused the nine men, narrowing his eyes skeptically, "Pirates are not."

Despite, the princess's possible recognition of one of the men, the Commander's suspicions were sound.

"The fault lies in _this_ ," a stoic blonde noble intimated sourly, "pirate. We asked him for his covert assistance, not realizing his blunders would result in us nearly being eaten alive."

In a collective glare, the nobles focused slit eyes on the pirate Captain. Heg'ir ignored them, busy playing a game on a handheld device. He furiously moved his thumbs across its screen. "Die candy bugs, die!"

Embarrassed, Resolder elbowed him, shushingly. "Do you want to get us killed? Put that away, Captain."

Heg'ir didn't bother to tear his eyes away from his game, "I'm at level 135. You know how long it took me to get here? I'd rather chance death then put it down now."

With a taut frown, Resolder's telekinetically snatched the game from the older man, tossing it behind them. The nearest laser monitor shot it from the air. Heg'ir let out a pitiful cry, reaching for it. "My candy bugs!" The scorched remains floated to the ground in ashes as Resolder smirked.

Apple chuckled, shifting her eyes up at her nephew. "He reminds me of you."

"Don't insult me," Kylo replied flatly.

With a dramatic sigh, Heg'ir plopped back in his seat. "Fine." A whirring sound erupted over head.

"Phase 10," Hux grimaced as the majority in the room became uneasy.

"Excuse me," Heg'ir scrambled to his feet, despite the stormtroopers trained guns on him, throwing himself in front of the vent.

Hux held his hand up, stopping them from filling the man full of lasers.

Arms outstretched and chest puffed up, Heg'ir grinned waiting.

A cloud of orange powder spewed out between the shafts painting him in neon particles. The pirate pivoted to face them, powdered smile on his face. "In my defense," he stated pointing his coated index finger at the lot of them, "that shipment looked clean."

"You stole it from rather mangy-looking wookies," Resolder countered.

Heg'ir made his way back to his seat, shedding orange dust with every step. "I'm not a doctor—how was I supposed to know they were infested."

"The insects were visibly crawling on them," another noble fumed.

Heg'ir brushed the powder from his face, flicking it from his go-tee with a laugh, "And those little buggers can seriously jump. The first one caught me from nearly twenty feet away, now that's a parasite you can respect."

The young general made a disgusted face.

"Are there any more fumigation phases?" The Captain beamed at no one in particular, "Because I am enjoying this; I have never felt better."

With a groan, Hux smoothed a tired hand over his eyes.

"There is another round in three days." Commander Rokens matched the pirate's pep, "the life cycle of the space louse indicates that millions of eggs can hatch in three to four days."

The stormtroopers around the room fidgeted uncomfortable.

"So…" Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Apple not-so-subtly asked, "General, may I have some ladies-in-waiting? To help with… uh, grooming."

"Of course," he replied quickly.

"And a whole new wardrobe?"

The general didn't hesitate. "Absolutely. In the morning, we will acquire everything you need."

Fuo'stil shrugged his broad shoulders, nonchalant. "If you permit us, we can provide them tonight."

"Off your lice-ridden ships? Not hardly," Hux sneered then puffed up his chest. "I will provide all necessities for our princess."

"We can acquire them from the surface," Fuo'stil didn't bother to prevaricate, misinterpreting the general's impatience, "The infestation is limited to our vessels." He shifted his upper body towards the violet-eyed noble. "Duch'da Kel'ir, how about your three sisters as the princess's courtiers?"

The younger noble choked, features paling. He coughed, sputtering. "I… uh…"

All the color drained from the young Kel'ir's face. Even a few others appeared terrified of the prospect, murmuring as if speaking of a great evil, "The triple storms."

"Accomplished women of good family and loyal to our cause." Fusolder straightened himself with Hapes pride. "Your mother would be proud to offer them."

"Uhhh…" Kel'ir blubbered, stuck in an unintelligible stupor. "Well… I uhh…" He grimaced, making a serious of not-too-enthusiastic faces. "Ooo… uhh… wow… ah…"

"It would be a great honor to your family and they can bring their future Queen a fashionable trousseau worthy of her." Fusolder ignored his garbled protests, "The three of them would make perfect ladies-in-waiting."

"Three Hapan women? Here?!" Rokens jumped on it, a little too eagerly, "Yes!" He pumped his fist. "I'll make the arrangement for their reception immediately."

Hux slowly rotated his upper body around in his seat to give his subordinate a poisonous glare. "By whose authority?"

"It's perfect!" Apple beamed. "Can I have them?" She snatched the general's sleeve. "Please. Please. If I go another moment without girl-talk, I'll just roll-over and die."

The corner of Hux's mouth twitched in a nervous chuckle.

Rokens scratched his cheek, considering, "They don't have lice, do they?"

Kel'ir shot him a filthy look.

Wavering under the princess's glistening large-eyed pleading, Hux swallowed, "Fine." He caved like a stack of cards. "How much trouble could three women possibly be?"

A few of the Hapes men joined him in uneasy laughter. Kel'ir dropped his head to the table, covering it with an apprehensive groan. "You have no idea."

—

Hanger bay 12 enlivened with a flurry of security personnel.

The sparkling Hapes shuttle lowered slowly into the bay, curling its wings upward over itself as its engines came to a humming halt.

Lieutenant Commander Ru swallowed nervously. He had heard stories of Hapes women. Evil vipers. Women that tore out mens hearts to eat them. Harpies that nagged a man's ears to disintegration. And now there he was assigned to greet three of them.

Fortunately, he had been previously briefed on the Hapes women, along with cultural warnings. Apparently, there were some cardinal rules that men in the Hapes Consortium lived—or rather survived by:

1\. Whatever you do, don't look below any Hapes woman's neck. They'll rip out your eyes from their sockets.

2\. If they say everything is "fine," it isn't—It's a warning of impending doom. Prepare to be neutralized in a most severe and extreme way within the next five minutes.

3\. Hapes women are always right, even when they are wrong. There is no other right, except a Hapes woman's right.

4\. Never leave them alone with your communicators—they will go through all your contacts and messages.

5\. Never let them see you cry. They can smell weakness—that and, even the remotest amount of sweat. Note: they horde copious amounts of girly fragrances and are not afraid to use them.

6\. They take an excessively long time grooming themselves. Always expect to be late. And don't complain about being late. And the fail safe is always, "You look beautiful." But be prepared for the treacherous follow-up question: "What? I didn't look beautiful yesterday?" If that is asked, then run.

7\. Don't open things for them unless they ask, especially non-automatic doors. Don't offer to pay for their dinner. Buying them presents at all times is acceptable-but not food. (See rules on buying presents.) The only acceptable food that can be purchased for them is a neurostimulating substance called chocolate.

8\. Chocolate is a major food group. When craved in excess, it is a sign of danger looming.

9\. The time of the month isn't a celebration—It is Dooms Day in a week. Just throw chocolate and run. Run fast.

10\. Above all else, don't answer the question, "Do I look fat in this?" Just run for cover.

He reiterated the cardinal rules over and over in his mind. Taking a trembling intake of breath, he signaled to his stormtroopers to make their weapons ready for receiving the women. Never in the history of his career in serving with the First Order had he heard about beings so dangerous as Hapes women.

The ramp lowered and his resolve faltered. He would have broke and ran, if it hadn't been for the lines of troopers standing behind him watching and looking to him for leadership.

Steam curled outward from the ramp's hydraulics as it touched down, disrupting visibility for only a moment before men's admiring gasps could be heard.

Three gorgeous specimens of womanhood sauntered down the shuttle's ramp. Albeit the sisters had slightly similar bone structures and matching heights, they apparently came from three obviously different but equally beautiful paternal gene pools. Each measuring at least a good breath taller than the princess. The only thing that they held in common was the style of their uniforms: exceedingly tight leather pants and even tighter jackets with plunging necklines.

The stormtroopers's lines wavered. The rearguards strained their necks, leaning around their comrades to get a better view. Engineers dropped their tools, caught in a staring stupor.

Lieutenant Commander Ru gaped. The officer at his right passed out.

"Officer down," Ru squeaked into his communicator.

The First Order was in trouble. Real trouble. Real estrogen-rich trouble.

Guns and blades strapped to their hips, the three stunners sashayed into the hanger bay on four-inch spikes of heels that exaggerated the swaying of their shapely hips. Nothing could have struck the First Order men more dumb than three perfect-figured, breathtakingly beautiful ladies.

The Hapes pirates, on the other hand—whom had been meandering about trying to integrate themselves on the ship—spotted the women and immediately made themselves scarce. Out of there like lightning. Nothing would induce them to stay, while the First Order men were frozen in place riveted by feminine curves and siren smiles.

"Welcome to the…" Ru's words caught in throat as the mocha-skinned sister opened a stick of gum to languidly put it in her mouth.

With surly sea-foam-green eyes, she chewed the gum slowly—and ever so defiantly—before blowing a bubble at him.

"…Star Destroyer _Incursion_ ," he managed to finish when she popped the bubble in his face. He gulped. "Ladies…" his voice cracked, "I am Lieutenant Commander Ru."

She slit her eyes at him, raking a condescending stare up and down him then looked away. "Whatever."

The Lady Blai'ze, or simply "Blaze," was known to be as fiery as her name. Upon elaboration during the earlier briefing, their brother Kel'ir nervously explained that she instead had a penchant for "projectiles"… he squirmed more… "and detonators"… a substantial more squirming… "and scissors."

When inquired about the scissors further, the Count just noted with a hopeful smile, "but there are several things she hates: the color yellow, high-pitched laughs, people who say 'fluffy,' things that are fluffy, the color pink, people that roll their Rs, clowns, whistling, flowers, the smell of old people, the smell of freshly cut grass, the smell of male armpits, sweating, big toothy smiles, toeless shoes, toenails, hairy toes, perky people, toe-headed perky people, toe-headed people who don't shoot perky people…" He would have continued listing things hated by his sister, seemingly indefinitely, if it hadn't been for Captain Phasma snapping, "Enough!"

But there the "hater" was, scowling at the universe… Kind of a sith motif to her attitude, if it wasn't for her sudden displaced delight at a sweeper droid making a haphazard circle beneath the stormtrooper's feet. The giddy expression lasted all of but five seconds before the droid disappeared out of sight. That was rather adorable.

Mocha brown hair cut short to her shoulders, perfectly coiffed at the ends— except for random longer wavy locks dyed the same sea foam green color as her eyes. Every flick of those green locks against her mocha-colored skin made her startling eyes even more… startling.

Dark brown almost black leather uniform and matching black fingernail color, except her ring fingers—they were painted the same rebellious sea foam as the locks of her hair. And enough dark silver and black rings to make up for the lack of jewelry elsewhere, save for the dozen connected studs lining the entirety of her outer left ear.

Blaze rebelliously chomped on her piece of gum. Half-looking like she wanted to spit it in the face of any man that had the audacity to smile at her.

Ru felt his own face flush. He composed himself… a serious effort actually. "On behalf of the First Order, I would like to—"

The red-headed sister leisurely sidled up to him. Carefully picking a piece of lint off his uniform, she looked up at him coyly through exceptionally long eyelashes.

"Enough talk…" She put her perfectly manicured finger against his lips silencing him, asking close to his face, "Where are our rooms?"

At Ru's left, Communications Officer Deeter gurgled a goofy smile over a mouthful of drool then dropped like a rock. The red-head glanced down at the unconscious man and shrugged apathetically.

The youngest of the three, the Lady Riverynes, or "River" as she was called—One of the noblemen mentioning through a cough over his fist—because she was "tumultuous as the sea." Count Kel'ir admitted remorsefully that she was spoilt. "Entitled, that one is," he said and then clammed up quickly. Only torture would induce him to brief them further on the subject.

The Lady River had a primped-fashionable look to her. Designer tailored clothing matching her amber eyes and chosen to accentuate the auburn lowlights in her thick red hair. Her scarlet mane curled in perfect ringlets down to her waist. Carefully-plotted, long layers framed her diamond-shaped face with professional accuracy. Thick-voluptuous dark-red lips lined to perfection—and smiled invitingly at every male in the room. Perfectly arched auburn eyebrows. And jeweled utility belts placed precisely to garner acknowledgement of how tiny her waist was in comparison to her hips.

She blew a sultry open-mouthed kiss at a freckled technician and the poor bumbling man passed out, dropping like a total tool onto his toolbox. Laser-drivers and electric-wrenches scattered everywhere… Medics rushed to the three downed men. River glanced away bored by the whole fiasco, returning her attention to the Lieutenant Commander. "Limited attention span," Kel'ir had previously muttered under his breath. Apparently so.

River slipped her arm up over Ru's shoulder. "Are you married?"

He glanced down at the decreasing space between them. "Umm… uhh…No…"

"Good," she completely closed the minuscule distance separating them to wrap her other arm up around his neck. With a smile, she tilted her head to kiss him as her fingers toyed with the back of his uniform's cap. Somedays he loved his job.

"River!" The eldest sister snapped, "Leave the man alone."

Drat! Ru blinked as the red-head jerked her head away.

River puckered her mouth into the shape of a heart with a disappointed mewing sound, "But I like his pale hair," she ran her fingers through the back of it, "it's cut so short for a man," she stretched her luscious red lips into an even more luscious smile, "And he's adorable like a porcelain doll," Her smile widened "with pale gray eyes, pale skin, and…" she went to kiss him. "… pale lips."

"River!" Her dark-haired sister barked.

"Fine," River pulled away dropping her head, "ruin my fun." She slid her arms off his shoulders and strutted away as if the entire universe benefitted by watching her. For a moment there, Ru felt like he _definitely_ benefitted.

River put her chin to her shoulder and mouthed, "call me."

Making her way stealthily towards him was the eldest sister, Lady Roannes, or "Roan" for short. Duty bound and loyal to her family's honor, she took her position as First Sister seriously. Their brother indicated that she preferred things to be simplistic, circumscribed, and straight-lined. From the looks of her, that description was accurate. Except for the expensive, dual electro-bladed swords strapped to her back and the numerous daggers expertly hidden about her person, her appearance was exactly that… Straight-lined and serious.

Known for her preference of sword fighting to fashion, Roan had that somber natural look to her. Long straight black hair pulled back into a careless ponytail. Thick unkept dark-eyelashes surrounding penetrating violet eyes—the same color as her brother's, but hers had more striking, darker rings around the irises.

Intense full, pink lips pressed into an unwelcoming line. Creamy olive skin. Pert straight nose. Not a drop of makeup in sight. Not a drop of adornment. Not more than basic brown to her uniform, other than her house's coat of arms on her right arm. Blatantly unconcerned about her appearance other than what necessity required.

But then again, the most naturally beautiful of the three… why should she have be concerned… even in spite of her lack-luster somber expression. Absence of smiles. Apparent neglect for social glimpses. Roan was just straight-forward business. And when her eyes scanned the hanger bay, it was obvious that it wasn't to engage others in social contact—she scrutinized the security. Scoped the entrances and exits. Calculated the number of soldiers in the room… and from her pinched expression every few moments, divided the number from the time needed to eliminate them.

Ru, in one word, feared that one. Mustering his military training, he straightened his shoulders, tugging on the edges of his jacket's sleeves. "First Order policy does not permit foreign dignitaries to carry weapons while being aboard official starships."

He waved his fingers towards himself. A couple of eager… too eager… stormtroopers jogged over to them with a few large, plastic bins.

Roan frowned deeply at the empty bins then nodded. "Sisters," she ordered as she removed the swords from her back.

She slit her eyes icily at the nearest trooper, "If I find even a scratch on my babies, I will give you a… very… very… memorable haircut."

The man jerked his head back away from her, replying, "Yes, ma'am!"

Blaze rolled her eyes and dragging the laser pistols from her hip holsters to plunk them in the white container after her sister.

Guns piled in the plastic boxes. River stripped the blades from her wrist gauntlets all twelve of them.

Ru watched as the troopers were weighed down with the increasing numbers of weapons the women pulled from their thigh holsters, boots, hips, hair, etc. Thermal detonators were added to the pile. Not surprising. A spiked hairclip that opened into a magnetic mace once it came in contact with metal on top of Mount Killer-Man-Jar-Jar pile of weapons? Surprising.

One of the women plopped a rocket launcher on the pile. Ru glanced up at Blaze. He narrowed his eyes at her skin tight uniform. Where'd she hide that? She just smiled snarkily back at him.

A considerable cache of weapons piled in the two boxes once Blaze stopped unloading her personal supply. Her portion of the pile was large enough to put the artillery room to shame.

"Satisfied?" She asked sarcastically, ready to amble off.

The Lieutenant Commander held up a hand, blocking her way. He cleared his throat with authority. "One moment please."

Upon his signal, an engineer scurried over to them with handheld weapons scanner. The freckled man swept it over her. The device beeped furiously, flashing a yellow light at Blaze's chest. With an exasperated roll of her eyes, she cursed in Hapan and reached down her shirt to pull out another detonator.

She wrinkled her nose and slit her eyes at Ru contemptuously and tossed it in the bin, "Happy?"

"I apologize for the inconvenience, ma'am," he began, "but…"

With a smile, she plucked the end of her gum from her mouth to stretch it out on her finger.

He watched her slightly distracted as she strung it back and forth from her mouth, while her sisters continued to unload the remainder of their weapons. Yes, the piles were getting much bigger. And no, he wasn't paying attention to them.

Blaze wrapped the gum slowly around her finger with a malicious expression.

"The General or Lord Ren are the only ones whom can override the rules, ma'am," Ru continued as she finished extracting the string of gum.

"You may lodge a formal complaint…" he glanced down as she stuck it to the insignia ribbon medal for valor on his left breast, "…with the communications detail."

Blaze smiled at him wickedly. "I'll keep that in mind," she pronounced perfectly despite her thick lilting accent.

Within seconds, the gum started to flash a blinking light.

Spotting the luminescent gum, Roan whipped into action, swiftly snatching it from Ru's chest to chuck into the air. She shouted, "Everyone down!"

Men hit the ground. The gum exploded into a small spark of electrified cloud above their heads, sending out sizzling red spirals in all directions. The smells of Ozone and burning ash filled the area.

Springing angrily to his feet, Ru straightened his uniform in snapping motions. "Are you insane?! That could have killed me!"

Blaze grinned and flicked her mocha hair back over her shoulder. "Was that my detonator gum? Oops. My bad."

"You do that again," Roan leveled her gaze at her sister, "And I will let River give you a makeover."

The red-head grinned vindictively.

Blaze glowered at her sisters then turned away, saying in Hapan, "Whatever. It's not like we're going to be here for very much longer."

"With all due respect ma'am, if you break our rules again in anyway," Ru returned in perfect Hapan, startling them with his sudden versatility of their language, "you may find that an accurate statement…"

The stormtroopers clicked their rifles around them.

Ru finished pensively, "but not in the way that you may intend."

"Oh I simply adore him," River bit her bottom lip, grinning. "He's plucky."

The eldest surveyed the clean-lined expansive hanger bay and all the soldiers with their weapons trained on them. "Sisters, I believe the Lieutenant Commander has shown us a great courtesy. This is their domain now," she swung her violet eyes back to the other ladies' faces, "and for the sake of the _Shakal_ , we will endure their rules or you will be disowned."

The two younger sisters clasped their right fists into their left palms and bowed deference to her. Although, Blaze rolled her eyes.

Lady River dropped the salute with a happy purveyance of their surroundings. "Actually, I think," she grinned, "I'm going to really enjoy it here. It could use some feminine touches, but it could be quite…" her grin took on a salacious nature, "interesting."

Blaze shouldered past her, nearly knocking her forward. "Whatever. Let's get this over with."

Ru held up his hand. "Hold."

She looked down her nose at him. "Where is the _woman_ ," she stressed, "in charge?"

"Right here," Captain Phasma's audio-filtered voice said coolly.

The sisters spun to see the Captain's silver armor approaching in an agitated stride.

"Now," Phasma's tone hinted of danger.

She leveled her rifle at their skulls. The charging mechanism whined a high pitched resonance: It was energized to the maximum setting.

Finger on the trigger, she asked simply, "which one of you set off that detonator and tried to kill my men?"

Roan glimpsed from the towering women to the rifle, eyes widening in recognition at the weapon immediately.

It was an HR-6-7 rifle. A formidable gun, it had several charging settings. The one the Captain had it at… required the gun to shot in order to discharge the energy or the weapon itself would implode. It was a tragic flaw by the manufacturer, but in Phasma's hands, it was a masterful advantage.

Roan moistened her lips, cautiously. "It was a mistake; I'm sure—"

Phasma clicked the rifle's cocking mechanism. "Which one of you…" She enunciated slowly as she would have to murlaks, "…tried to kill my men?"

For the first time since they arrived, the Hapes women looked afraid. Very afraid.

Ru opened his mouth, shifting his eyes back and forth between the females.

"Captain," he quickly stepped in front of Phasma's barrel, "it was a misfire."

Blinking her sea-foam green eyes rapidly, Blaze opened and closed her mouth like a fish trapped on land. Completely shocked. Hapes men weren't known for protecting women… unless they were paid. So Ru's actions stunned her to silence.

"A faulty triggering mechanism set the bomb off," Ru recounted then tipped his head towards the eldest sister, "Fortunately, Lady Roannes noticed the flaw and immediately took action, throwing the device into the air before it could discharge."

Phasma's silver mask stared at him silently for a long moment. "I see your medal for valor is missing, Lieutenant Commander. Did you forget to put it on today?"

Sweat beaded on his brow. "It…" he measured his words carefully, "disappeared, Captain."

"I see," she said frigidly then after a few agonizing heart beats turned her weapon to side, discharging its laser cartridge at the wall. With a snapping of thunder, it blew a substantial hole in the metal wall forty-feet away.

The Hapans stared at the gaping charred hole. Smoke sizzled off the edges. Singed electrical wiring sparked.

Plasma lowered her weapon to smack its barrel into her palm, warningly, "See that it doesn't happen again."

Handing her rifle over her shoulder to a stormtrooper, she informed, "Lieutenant Commander, the general asked that you take our… guests," she sneered the word, "on a tour of the appropriate sections."

He nodded, "Will do, Captain."

"Our General is not interested in entertaining _women_ ," she remarked condescendingly despite being a female herself, "during negotiations. They can convene with the princess at a later interval."

She snagged a holstered pistol from a stormtrooper and shoved the weapon into Ru's chest. "And if one of these… ladies," she pronounced with contempt," steps out of line, shoot her. The princess can always acquire a replacement."

Ru took the gun. "Understood."

With a snort, the captain spun on her heel to stalk away.

"What is the Shakal Princess like, Captain?" Roan asked idealistically. "Is she truly as the stories say?"

Phasma stopped like a board hitting a wall. "If the stories say: blonde, diminutive, and annoyingly perky, then yes." With that, she left.

A twisted smile appeared on Blaze's lips as she watched the taller woman stomp away. "Oh, I like her."

Roan absorbed the situation carefully then decided to engage the lieutenant commander in awkward conversation, "You must be honored to serve under such a woman."

Ru squinted at her. The cold woman was actually attempting small talk.

"The Captain is responsible for infantry and artillery," he explained in clipped consonants, "not the intergalactic navy."

He signaled for the troopers to cart the women's weapons away. "She has no jurisdiction over me. No one does," he told them firmly, "except the General, Lord Ren, and Commander Rokens. Everyone else answers to me aboard this ship. I just show Captain Phasma the respect she deserves as a capable soldier."

"As a man should," Blaze vamped towards the ship's interior.

"She earned her respect," he attached the pistol holster to his belt and strode past the noblewoman in just two strides, "More than I can say for you." He was still just a little miffed… just a little… at her attempt to blow him up.

Her hateful eyes bored into his back.

Stopping, he half-twisted his upper body to glimpse back at them, plastering a professional smile on his face."If you would, my ladies," he held out his hand in a perfunctory motion, "follow me."

A slight taunting entered his voice, "But please do try to keep up; I haven't the time to waste on female meandering."

Three sets of beautiful eyes shot him daggers.

His fake smile widened. Screw the cardinal rules. They wanted to open a detonator on his ship, then this was outright war. "This way."

 ******This one was edited, and is the second of three parts of a single chapter. Chapter 22-23-and24 were actually one chapter, but I won't be able to download the 24th chapter tonight with the other two. It needs a good edit.**

 **But I do hope that you enjoyed these two recent additions. Please send in your reviews and make comments on these chapters. A lot the information within them is based on locations and characters from the expanded Star Wars universe. Thank you for reading. Please share this story with others, If you like it, favorite it and please write a review. Thank you so much!******


	24. Chapter 24

Lieutenant Commander Ru dug the pads of his fingers into his temples in slow, agonized motions. "For the last time, there is no massage therapist on board. There is no boutique. We do not house manicurists. And there are no hot tubs. "

River opened her mouth.

"And no," Ru felt his frustration surmount, "you can't have that Stormtrooper. He is a person, not an object."

With a disappointed 'mrr' sound, River slipped her arms off the most recent stormtrooper she had pinned in a corner. "But I like this one."

"Yes, just as you did the last 112?" Ru replied, completely dry of humor.

"I'm surprised he kept count," Blaze said out the side of her mouth to her eldest sister with a twisted smirk.

Roan slit her eyes, "Technically, it was 113. But he didn't bother to add his own numerical value to our amorous sister's inventory."

"Indiscriminate taste." Blaze commented with contempt. "She hasn't even viewed their faces—"

"Or their fighting skill," Roan interjected swiftly, but relaxed her own reserve out of the issue at hand. "But when has third sister cared about anything other than—"

Whap! The industrious red-head planted a mischievous palm on another soldier's armored backside.

"And there goes number 114." Roan frowned. "At least, she's being consistent this time."

Ru absent-mindedly handed a stormtrooper his data pad and chased after the scarlet haired vixen. He jabbed his index finger at her. "You, Lady River are to report to sexual harassment training at 0800 hours tomorrow."

"What?" River gasped, half-mockingly and half-surprised. "Can't harass the willing…" she told him then coo-chi-cooed a nearby soldier, tickling his neck, "can you? No, you can't."

The entranced trooper leaned forward towards her touch, all but rapidly-tapping his foot like a subdued Tandorian canine.

Blaze easily plucked the data pad from the distracted soldier to view its contents. "Now where are our quarters…"

"I can't believe you can read their paltry language," Roan complained.

"I can do a lot of things, first sister," Blaze ran her fingers over the touch screen distractedly then frowned, "Now, this definitely won't do. Look at the tiny size of our quarters."

Roan removed her eyes from River's escapades to flick them to the quarters' schematics. "Insulting. Fix it."

"Done," Blaze finished with a flourish, then slipped the data pad back into the occupied stormtrooper's free hand. The other one was reaching for River's hair as she was cooing at him.

"You like me, don't you?" River drew her finger along his chest plate.

The soldier guffawed goofily, "Yes, ma'am."

Ru shoved the soldier away and stepped between them. "You will submit to harassment training, Lady River, or you will be confined to your quarters for the remainder of your stay. I don't care what Hapes men like, but grabbing every Stormtrooper's…" he searched for the most appropriate word, "…gluteus maximus is not permitted behavior aboard this ship."

"Oooo, so testy…" She sauntered past him, "Fine." She conceded then flashed him a playful grin, "I'll keep it to the officers," and smacked his tush for good measure.

Pale face flushing, Ru sprang away startled. He spun to her, flustered. "Don't make me lodge a formal complaint against you, ma'am."

"Don't make me lodge a formal complaint," Blaze mimicked bobbing her head side to side, "He is so annoying," she went to complain further but stopped suddenly as her eyes widened at something she finally noticed her sister River was wearing. "Is that my belt?"

"What?" River laughed mockingly. "You just now noticed? Slow as always, second sister."

"Take it off." Blaze demanded.

"No." River patted the jeweled belt. "I'm wearing it well."

Her older sister curled her black polished nails into her palms, not even sparing the seafoam green ones. A look of death shadowed her mocha face. "It's mine."

"So." River flipped her long red hair over her shoulder with a challenging smile. "It looks better on me."

"Take it off!"

"Make me." River challenged, copper eyes deadly.

A cold smile slithered onto Blaze's lips. "Gladly."

Suddenly looking like he was trapped between two growling banthas, the Lieutenant Commander took a step back. "Resolve this on your own time, ladies."

"Ooo…" Roan grimaced. "Some men are just not wise."

Her sisters turned their venom on him. "Stay out of this!" They snarled in unison.

And with shrieks, the two women whipped out blades and launched at each other slashing.

"What the—?!" Ru lifted his hands in shock. "Where…? I thought we acquired all their weapons." He ducked as Blaze's blade extended to sword length to slice at River's skull and unfortunately almost hit his. The tip seared into the metal wall behind him. Sparks flew.

River countered, her blade folding out into a whip. Cracking it over her head, she brought it down at her sister's feet. Blaze sprung out of the way.

"But we got all their weapons?" Ru stammered stunned. "We searched them. We scanned them?"

"Should've checked their bras,." Roan commented with a roll of her eyes. "I'm going to the bathroom." She went to stalk off.

"But what about your sisters?!" He called after her then crunched up his shoulders as Blaze's sword missed River's hair to slice a sparking gash through a control panel to the side of her.

"Who cares," Roan threw her hand back over her shoulder apathetically and was out of there. "Not my problem."

Ru just watched her stunned, almost too numb with shock to hear the high-pitched screeching and hissing of the two wild-Hapes-cats tearing up the hallway behind him.

"Just give the order to fire Commander," the First Line Stormtrooper tracked the clashing harpies with his rifle.

"Imbecile! We can't shoot the princess's ladies-maids!" Ru snapped at the man.

"I'll kill you!" Blaze slashed at her sister. "Give it back!"

River flipped out of the way, dodging up a crate to backflip over her sister's slash, firing electric bolts out the tip of her whip. "Never!"

The bolts struck the ground and wall towards the mocha-skinned woman. She aerialed out of the strike path and returned the attack. Electric bolts tore through two metal crates behind her imploding them in a shower of women's shoes and smoking pantyhose.

"Sir," First Line Trooper 6N4D commented flatly, "But what if they kill each other? Is that our problem?"

"No!" Ru glared at the fool. "Who do you think Lord Ren will blame when we present their corpses?"

All the troopers exchanged a look then pointed at Ru. Smug murlaks. The lieutenant Commander scowled, then cringed as another volley of sisterly affection blew through security control panels behind their heads.

Blaze tore after the red-head and cutting through every wall, every crate, every droid… well, not droids. Her electric blade stopped inches from a roller droid's dome. Sheepishly she smiled at the R2D8 droid, saying, "ahhh!"

That distraction lasted a parsec before her beautiful face contorted into another distortion of fury. With a cross-body strike at River's head, she sliced through a conglomerate of air filtration cylinders as the scarlet ducked.

First Line Trooper 6N4D crouched behind a nearby luggage crate as River's whip tore another box open instead of her sister. Women's clothing and unmentionables tumbled out of the scorched aperture.

"What's your order, sir?" He clutched his rifle to his chest. "They're tearing up the place. Should we call in Captain Phasma?"

Ru's face flushed. "No," he barked acridly biting back his own embarrassment, "We are not calling in the Captain. We can handle this."

Blaze brandished the ever-increasing-sized-electroblade like a crazy wild women. Swinging the heavy blidger with the restraint of a wookie trying to pick a fur wedgey. The soldiers dove for cover. Sparks erupted in shiploads down the hall. Ignoring the smoking remains of the rest of her luggage, Blaze kicked crates at her sister. River cracked her whip, severing the three metal boxes in half before they hit her. Stuffed animals and makeup products spewed out of them. One stray crate smacked into two troopers rushing into the hall as reinforcements.

The stench of ozone and burning rubber affronted the lieutenant commander's nostrils. He covered his nose with the back of his sleeve and shifted his eyes to the troops with sheepish regret. "Any of you men have sisters?"

The soldiers braced themselves behind cover and exchanged bewildered looks, shaking their heads.

Blaze kicked another crate at her sister. River dodged, leaving the metal projectile to careen towards the men. Ru dove out of the way.

"Do you, sir?" First Line Trooper 6N4D asked.

Ru covered his head as a volley of bras and panties exploded into the air. "No. Thank the universe, no."

He called out. "Anyone have any experience with violent females?"

One soldier piped up. "I had a pet snapping-female turtle once."

The others just stared at him.

"So it died after one day." The soldier countered, audio-filtered voice defensive, "But how I was supposed to know that you have to feed it?"

An explosion erupted in the hall. The universe only knows what caused that new explosion of tawdry women's undergarments and fluffy fur balls.

"T9M6, don't you dare keep that." Ru snapped at a soldier in the act of sneaking a tiny stuffed animal into his utility belt.

The man quickly dropped the blubber-bear disappointed. "Ahhh," he complained.

—

Kylo Ren rested his upper back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He had given up on pacing. The meeting had resolved into discussions of logistical details of merging their two respective nation-states, invoking an overwhelming nauseam of boredom in him. No coercion was measured. No threats. Just simple expansionism of the First Order in perhaps one of the easiest acts ever administered. And there he was… he yawned behind his mask… witnessing history in the making. The First Order established a swift unilateralism— in the act of absorbing nearly a third of the Hapes Consortium—for its part during the merger without so much as lifting a single cannon. All for the sake of the Hapes supercilious fools idolizing his darling little aunt.

Apple put her chin to her shoulder to smile endearingly at him.

Kylo dropped his arms in an instant. Blast, she sensed his thoughts again. He turned his mask away. While she had the blockaded mind of Fort Ansterixis, he apparently laid as an open data pad before her. He glinted back at her from the corner of his eye. She had returned her attention to the arrangement. Her mere nodded legitimized the General's half-hearted promises in the minds of the Hapes nobles, except one. The force-sensitive boy. Rather, Resolder was only but two years his minor, still Kylo found himself regarding that two year distance with contempt, especially when he caught the little scum spying a sneaky glance at his aunt.

"Things need to be handled delicately in the face of your current Queen Mother, seeing as how she still retains two-thirds of the Hapes Consortium," General Hux enunciated succinctly, waving his hand to the side in a flippant manner, "Not to mention, your hesitation to guarantee your own planets will immediately defect to our cause."

"The immediate nature of the merger will be unfortunately hindered by our citizens considering men as unable to conduct such political transactions without the guidance of the women in authority," Prince Fusolder explained, looking suddenly tired. The plight of his position was beginning to show in his face.

Hux stretched his upper body back, speaking as if ready to quit the logistical portion of their discussion permanently, "We have no other choice then but to call this what it is… a motion of false hopes…"

Fusolder's eyes widened in disbelieving horror. "A pause in proceedings is not an impediment, honorable General. Give us a chance to procure feminine signatures to our affidavits—and thereafter, we will seal the merger with our blood if need be. We will obtain what is necessary to ensure our part in this agreement."

"Very well…" Hux chewed on his distaste, but didn't voice it outlaid, instead he resorted to a different tactic, "then I would ask you to enumerate your complaints at our handling of these further proceedings. We will do everything within the First Order's power to remove obstacles to develop a better understanding of our merger as far as it is possible. After all, we do not want anything else but to fulfill our historic mission in reuniting the universe under one flag and one infallible governing body… to eliminate the chaos that the Republic had brokered over the last thirty years."

The Hapes men exchanged looks.

A darker skinned noble, Mej'le with high cheekbones and emerald flashing eyes spoke up. "And if we agree to your terms, providing our own are met, we will not become a target of your Starkiller machination?"

Kylo could sense the noblemen's fear rippling just under the surface of their resolves. He smiled a death's head smile. They hadn't yet discovered that the Starkiller was destroyed.

"Why not instead," Fusolder told the younger nobleman in no uncertain terms, "we offer the caves of Ranscha to the First Order as the seat of their new Starkiller? It has the necessary amount of dark energy lucre to sustain several of the machinations."

"That is not true…" Mej'le gasped, the whites of his eyes glowing with apprehension against his near black skin.

"Your mother assigned hundreds of Capesian citizens to mine it." Fusolder confronted him crisply then turned back to General Hux, "Build your base on Ranscha under the guise of mining trade, make of it a bigger Starkiller than your first one… And as payment for our aide and territory aim that blasted weapon at the seat of the Queen Mother."

"At your own capitol planet?" Hux was pleasantly surprised.

"If it comes down to sacrificing one planet to save countless others from that witch's grasp…" a dark expression shadowed over the prince's face, "then so be it."

Kyle's smile widened. Now that was a prince that he could appreciate.

Another sensation of emotions, made Kylo's smile waver. His eyes flitted to the princess. She played with the wrappings on her right hand in an unsteady manner and moistened her lips. Realization drew his eyebrows upward. He had forgotten that she didn't know about the Starkiller. A flash of a deathstar and the explosion of a planet came from her. She closed her eyes for a chilled moment then opened them, holding her composure under a layer of court etiquette.

The dark knight watched her. So, she was there when Alderaan was destroyed. Another sensation fluttered off her… Concern? Concern for him? So she felt her father died in the Second DeathStar's explosion. He went to probe further, but the impenetrable wall shot up quickly. Kylo whipped his head back as if slapped. He eyed her, lips tight. Apple didn't glance back at him, attention focused on her hands. Her whole mental demeanor withdrew into itself. His lips relaxed as he moistened them in understanding. She wasn't trying to hide from him. Instead, she was hiding her memories from herself.

"I shall investigate the matter and consider your offer, Prince Fusolder," Hux said, drawing the dark knight's attention back to the meeting.

The young general didn't bother to hide his pleased grin. "It is a very tempting offer."

"It is a real offer, esteemed general," Fusolder returned levelly, "For our cause and to support the princess, our true Queen Mother, we are willing to make any sacrifices necessary."

Apple shifted uneasily in her seat, attracting Hux's attention. The general's expression softened as he took a moment to drink in her profile. Then he flicked his eyes back to the Hapes prince.

"It is easy enough to talk of destroying worlds while we are sitting here comfortable in our chairs," Hux said with an uncharacteristic and almost awkward sounding gentleness, "Such actions would mean endless misery for millions of your people."

Kylo stifled a laugh. As if his aunt would believe that false portrayal of compassion. Apple reached over to touch the general's forearm, giving him a supportive and admiring look. Blast, she did. For someone so astute with the force, how could she not see that it was all just an act merely to win her affections. Kylo curled his fingers into his palms.

Hux returned the princess's affectionate smile. A small moment of tenderness exchanged between them as the general hesitantly placed his hand over the princess's smaller one.

The leather of Kylo's gloves protested as his fists tightened in further fury. A vindictive smirk poured on his face behind his mask. Then again… his fists relaxed as his thoughts reflected on a pertinent piece of information. The dark knight instead found himself wondering how Apple would see the general once she knew whom gave the order to destroy five Republic planets?

"Gentlemen," Hux turned back to the meeting with a renewed sense of purpose, "let us consider those… alternatives," a corrupt smile slithered onto his mouth, "at another time after sleep and further logistical deliberations."

The general lifted his cup, triumphantly, "Instead let us now raise our glasses to the unification of the First Order and the Hapes Empire."

"To peace and prosperity under a new Queen Mother," Fusolder added to the toast, focus centered on the princess. The others echoed his words with raised glasses.

Kylo narrowed his eyes into malignant and wary slits. The act continued. This perfunctory show of proprietary toasting on the part of Hux only set the morons up. It was a hoax… a mere pretense designed to ingratiate the foreign dignitaries into a false sense of security. A setup for absolute annexation of their worlds. In a seizure of their territory under the guise of superficial political euphemisms like 'political union' or 'unification.' It was obvious that the First Order was legitimately taking over their territory in a manner that prevented intergalactic protection. And even if the Republic was at its full power, it still wouldn't be able to legally interfere in this transaction. The Cornelian die was cast. Their fate was sealed in one toast. The Hapes Consortium would soon be a First Order territory and the governing body would not be his darling aunt, but instead would be Supreme Leader Snoke.

And for Snoke, Hux would throttle their intergovernmental dispositions in an iron fist then soften them up a little more, then throttle them, then soften… then go in for the kill. Blast, Kylo was bored. Somebody please shoot someone.

An uneasy squirming caught the dark knight's attention. Resolder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shooting his eyes several times to Prince Fusolder as if to signal him. So… apparently the young force-user had noticed the deception as well. Kylo smirked behind his mask, a sardonic shadow entering his eyes. His hand hovered over his lightsaber. Now things were becoming interesting.

"General," Apple interjected, without preamble. "May I say something?"

Hux blinked a few times as if jerking himself from a scripted act. "Of course, your highness."

So she hadn't completely bought his Bantha fodder. Kylo shifted his weight with an eager smirk. Oh, she was a delightful embellishment in his family tree. How he wished sometimes, that their relations would turn in a different direction other than what their genetics had intended.

Apple nodded gracefully at the general then turned to the other side of the conference table. "Gentlemen, I cannot speak for the First Order—as I am a guest in their midst—but I can speak for myself: I promise to act as your emissary. I know that I am young and somewhat unfamiliar with your ways or even the intricacies of the First Order… but I hope to serve as your voice. This amalgamation…" She defined the discourse in a firm tone, sending a sideways glance at Hux. It was the first time that she had taken such a resolute stance the entire interaction.

Hux stiffened slightly at her interpretation of the proceedings. It was in apparent contrast to his own, but said in such a manner that he couldn't gainsay it, at least not in that immediate setting. Kylo felt himself smile even prouder at his aunt. She was full of surprises.

"As we meet tonight in discussion of our merger…" she nodded to both parties involved. "…we must reflect that this agreement includes the forging of a patriarchal society and a matriarchal one…For the sake of the future of the galaxy and the lives of billions, if not trillions." She let her words linger unfettered in the air for a few moments.

"This will be no easy undertaking…" she continued, folding her bandaged hands on the table before her. "Many on both sides will rebel and the former Queen Mother—and I say former, for I firmly believe that all of the men present here today will effectively render that treacherous dictator a swift course of deserved justice— Notwithstanding her corrupt devices, she will still broker sympathy from those outside our unified cause… especially those that do not fully understand the necessity of our actions today. This is why, I hope that we can overlook small cultural discrepancies in tonight's proceedings and take on tomorrow with new eyes."

She made a point to send her blind sight to both General Hux's and Fusolder's faces. "No usurping nor undermining will take place between us. This amalgamation… this triumphant unification and merger of two extraordinary nation-states will be the beginning of a transparent intergalactic organization powerful and just, dedicated to the elimination of corruption within the universe. So let me offer myself as a mediator between our uniting entities to ensure that cultural differences are not viewed as illegitimacies and deceptions, but instead will be regarded as what they truly are, distinctive adages of a more perfect and future empire."

Kylo raised his eyebrows as the Hapes quasi-jedi sat back in his seat mollified by his aunt's speech. She was a force to be reckoned with. If he had taken her for granted before, he would be careful not to do so in the future.

A peppy game-show tune erupted from Commander Rokens' pocket. Rudy face erupting into an array of scarlet, the stocky man fumbled in his breast pocket for his communicator.

"Yes?" He whispered sharply into it, turning his face away from the table.

Hux shot malignant daggers at him.

Loud explosions and shrieks tumbled out of the communicator. Rokens hastily covered it with his palm, giving the room an apologetic smile. Flipping it with his thumb, he engaged his earpiece and flinched at random intervals.

"The draft of the document treatise will be drawn up by the morning," Hux ignored him.

"So soon?" Fusolder slowly leaned away from the table, pleased.

"It is imperative that plans need to be administered and put into action immediately. The First Order does not waste time on political formalities; we act and act fast." Hux informed him then added simply, "All my past is proof enough for that."

Fusolder nodded tightly.

With a frightful grimace, Rokens leaned over the general's shoulder to whisper in his ear. A flash of anger erupted on Hux's face then morphed into a terse smile.

"Then fix it," he said through clenched teeth.

"How, sir?" Rokens inquired, nervous. "We've never experienced such a… situation before."

"He has all the resources at hand," Hux clenched and unclenched his fists, speaking out the side of his mouth, "he should be able to handle three women."

Lord Kel'ir snapped his head up, eyes widening in horror. "It's my sisters, isn't it?"

Rokens and Hux turned to him slowly. It was apparent that they were debating whether or not to tell him the truth. But the general wasn't known for mincing words.

"Perhaps," Hux ventured stiffly, "Duch'da Kel'ir, you should see to your sisters. And reign them in. They are apparently creating a disturbance on my ship."

The nobleman's eyes widened further. Pushing his upper body away from the table, Kel'ir scrunched up his shoulders like a frightened feline. "Is there an option for me to be shot out an airlock instead?"

Hux simply slit his eyes. "Perhaps."

A small delicate hand gently hit Hux's chest, "General," Apple chuckled. "Shameful."

"Torture?" Kel'ir tried again, palming the table like a desperate man, "I'm willing to submit to the electro-rack."

"Yes please," Kylo burst a little too quickly.

Apple shot him a crusty.

"What?" He folded his arms across his broad chest. "I'm bored."

"Then you go and deal with this…" Hux began, but as if on cue Rokens accidentally dropped his communicator. Once it hit the metal floor, it erupted into a series of explosions, banging sounds, and shrieking.

"…situation," Hux finished, giving him a sour look.

"I'll kill you dead!" Blaze's distant sounding voice roared over the line.

Kel'ir shrunk into his large form into his seat. "I'm serious about taking the rack option."

The men stared at him.

He sighed loudly, droning, "Let me guess. Third Sister took something of Second Sister's and now Blaze is tearing up everything trying to kill her?"

"Yep," Rokens noted, "That pretty much sums it."

Kel'ir lifted his hands defeated. "There's nothing to be done. They'll finish when they finish."

"And when is that?" Hux asked coldly.

"Either after Blaze kills River or…" Kel'ir shrugged, "maybe after a week…or two?" He glanced at him, sheepish. "You don't feel too attached to the ship, do you General?"

Kylo headed for the door. "I'll end this now."

"Wait," Ke'ir reached out a hand towards him, suddenly worried.

"Duch'da," Hux clipped exasperated, "I assure you, Lord Ren will not harm your sisters." He shifted his eyes warningly to the dark knight, "Will he?"

Kel'ir waved his hand in an erasing motion, "No, esteemed General, you mistake me. Lord Ren is the nephew of the Shakal— My concern is actually for him," he squirmed a little more, "and his progeny."

Unphased, Kylo rolled his eyes, not missing a step towards the door. "I have handled wookies, I think I can handle three weak women."

The Hapes nobles exchanged nervous looks.

"Wookies don't consider castration an option when they lose," Kel'ir ventured to say.

More shrieks and explosions erupted from the communicator, despite Rokens attempting to muffle it with his hand. "The Lieutenant Commander says they have taken it into engineering," he added, "and they're not backing down, despite being hit with tear gas and stun lasers."

"Are you sure these are women? Human women?" Hux asked, astounded.

Kel'ir smoothed his palms on the table back and forth before answering. "Hapes women uh…" he searched for the right words in Basic, "ummm… well, come from superior genetic stock."

Another noble snickered, "Just not superior mental stock."

Kel'ir shot him a dirty look. Then gave up and waved his hand down in admittance, "True." He dropped his head to the table. "Just end me now."

"Hot crazy matrix," Kylo reminded Hux of the inside theory then strode towards the door lightsaber in hand. "Blasted, crazy-afterburner-chits."

"Kylo," Apple called to him.

He stopped in a stiff sharp motion. "Yes, Apple?"

The princess removed her necklace to hold it out to him, "Here. Take this."

"A necklace?" Kylo groaned, throwing his head back. His mask's audio-filtration morphed the sound into an exasperated growl. "This is an unmitigated absurdity. You can't possibly be serious."

"Come now," she grinned, "Take it with you." Her grin simpered into a pout as she wagged the immensely jeweled necklace at him. "It will be useful at the right moment."

"It's a necklace." He snatched it from her, not particularly happy about it. "I have a lightsaber."

"It's a very expensive necklace. There is nothing like all that glitters and shines," her pout twitched at the corners threatening to turn into a teasing smile, "Besides I want my ladies-in-waiting to remain alive."

"Are you sure about that, your highness?" Kel'ir chimed in, only to get elbowed by another nobleman. He turned unapologetically to him, "I'm just saying, she might actually reconsider."

The other nobles just shook their heads.

 ******This is the first of two parts. I have been so busy that I definitely haven't had time to even edit this at all. If my computer's autocorrect ate it, I apologize. I just haven't really had the time to apply to it that I would have liked.**

 **Anyway, the next portion to this will be up soon. Also in further chapters, you will see a lot of force techniques be referred to or used. Every force technique is derived from the wookipedia, as well as from theories in telepathic and telekinetic abilities. I will try to keep it as realistic as possible given this is an alternate fiction on Star Wars.**

 **Please feel free to comment and please write reviews. I really and truly enjoy reading your reviews and comments.**

 **Soon I am going to add in that scene that a reader once asked me for. I just had to find a place to enter it.**

 **Thank you all for your previous thoughts and comments. I really appreciate you!******

 *****Oh one more thing, in terms of the Finalizer vs the current ship they are on. Yeah, you assumed right: I considered the Finalizer to be too crippled and thought it would add to Hux's embarrassment and dilemma if he had to move to smaller ship after the battle.******

 *****Thank you again for reading.***********


	25. Chapter 25

*****This is a small interjection piece, from the perspective of a random officer. Just for your enjoyment while I am finishing up the next big chapter*****

 _Incursion_ Ship Log, Number 56-N9er-40.W2—

 _Verbally_ - _dictated_ by Ensign We'lin on Star Date 34 ABY (After Battle Yavin) and 16 days post-destruction of Hosnian System (Must mark that in all history data-sites):

Report No. 42/3, historical information subset-

Under non-alert status, or in other words: day-to-day circumstances, _Resurgent_ -Class Star Destroyers, such as the _Incursion_ are meant to be kept in tight working order. Crews operate closely together like well-oiled machines, in numbers roughly about 55,000 to 65,000 enlisted personnel per ship, often guided by an officer compliment of nearly 20,000. We rank in the upper portion of that sub-strata.

It is quite an undertaking to outfit and maintain one _Resurgent_ -class destroyer, especially a flagship. And even though, the _Incursion_ is quite compact compared to the standard First Order flagship, it still meets the rigorous demand spectrum. Not the norm for the esteemed General Hux and highest-ranking Knight of Ren, Lord Kylo Ren to call a compact ship their new home, but it couldn't be helped. Many of the more expansive flagships in the sector were under construction… ("Delete typo: and replace, marker noted"), ahem, reconstruction. And the reconstruction costs, not to mention the materials shortages, produced a "make-do" situation for the honorable First Order leadership.

To speak for the _Incursion_ —when compared to the raw power and precision of General Hux's choice flagship, the _Finalizer_ (he named it himself)—it still boasts remarkable crew ratings, even if I do say so for myself. The Incursion crew has scored several standard deviations above the rest of the First Order in tactical response, security precision, ship maintenance, overall morale, and sanitation detail… Yes… First Order crews are scored on how clean they kept the bathrooms and our bathrooms are the most pristine. Although, the Hapes servant to the honorable imperial princes… (Yes a real live imperial princess is aboard this ship) her foreigner handmaid, Lady Roan might be one to argue a mute point that the scores might have been exaggerated in terms of toiletry cleanliness. She has lodged formal complaints twice on her first night, listing (quote) "the toilet lids are left up, there is male urine everywhere. And the stench is not befitting the backside of a Tartar." (unquote). Her complaints have been noted by Lieutenant Riz'ah in his daily report 2-44-6N-alpha.

As for the _Incursion_ itself—well… it obviously holds a slight advantage above others its size. That and this ship so happened to be in the right place at the right time.

But why is this all important? To understand the devastating dichotomy that three Hapes women have created for our _Incursion's_ innocent crew. Yes, we are innocent. Nothing could have prepared us for the advent of these female creatures. I tell you: Never look them in the eyes. Men have already reported losing their souls to them. Several are drifting about the corridors with love-sick drooling expressions and others are writing… I am mortified to note… but they are writing romantic poetry. Several referrals have already been made to First Order Behavioral Health.

Back to the First Order fleet basics… as every young recruit has the grand privilege to memorize… (Honor to the Supreme Leader!) The design for _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyers was largely inspired by the imperial-class Star Destroyers of the Old Empire. This is common knowledge. The esteemed manufacturers had hoped to develop the imperial fleet in a few galactic years, but unfortunately, they were over confident. They are not First Order nationals; just third-party contractors. And they miscalculated greatly. The resources required to mass produce these fabulous works of art were limited. Yes… these ships are fabulous works of art. This is a historical record piece for the First Order, not a Republic campaign flier. Spit on the Republic!

To be fair to the Kulis Engineering Company (don't ask, I'm making the designation up. No one knows their real name… so, I'm taking poetic license to create a dummy name for them just for brevity's sake. Don't blame me. My security authorization is limited in terms of intergovernmental secrecies), but to fair to the engineering company—whatever their real name is—no one could possibly construct the massive amount of these capital ships without serious financial backing and substantial caches of raw materials. We must note obstacles and overcome them. Honor to the Supreme Leader!

So we, the mighty First Order settled on just creating the psychological ambiance of the _Venerator_ -class Star Destroyers. Kind of a 'fake it till you make it' gig. But to throw us a rancor bone. The contractors did improve the overall design with superb hull structural bracing in the ships' midsections and superior trusses to support the ships' bow upper hulls. Thank the stars for crafty engineers and historical constructs! These ships are truly a beautiful sight to behold!

Another lofty notion, these ships are twice the length of the original Imperial-class destroyers, with a sleek advantage when it comes to close range ship-to-ship combat. The embarrassing defeats at Endor and Jakku (we are not the Empire—grand as it once was. We are the First Order, a purer state, so we have no reason not to disparage such embarrassing defeats by our predecessor)… the flaws discovered in those sad battles made for some very slick design upgrades to our ships. Bigger also needed to be better. And certainly better they are. These points served to alter the engineering design of these ships accounting for point-blank-range combat. I know, it's fascinating! If you could just live and breathe one of these remarkable ships, you'd realize that history will favor us. And If a military genius could kiss the contractors that made the _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyers, he would.

A fact that would make any military officer smile: just one _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyer features over 3,000 turbo blasters and ion canons. Yes, that's right. Let the Republic scum squirm with envy. Yeah, Republic minions, have your Loth-kittens by the litter…feel the panic! Because these ships sport a devastating advantage for orbital assaults and any form of slugging matches with enemy ships. Suck on that, you Republic Moof-milkers. May spice salt your wounds! Wait, Ensign Li'u just informed me that was that a Twi'lek insult. ("Ahem. Cough. Cough. Delete previous two sentences from ship's log and replace with: Down with the Republic scum!" Honor to the Supreme Leader!)

Back to the exalted history of the First Order. The Resurgent-class Star Destroyers surpassed the legendary imperial-classes with a substantial more fire power and—just to bring happiness to trigger happy gunners, such as myself—a much faster recharge rate. This can be attributed to the First Order's superior technology and the Kyber Focusing Crystals mined from a secret source in the Unknown Regions… (Don't ask where the crystals come from, because those that know are either already executed or are living it large in First Order central…which if you don't already know, is an ever changing location. Neither of which are talking. And one who is loyal does not ask questions above his station. Honor to the Supreme Leader!)

Great news, these crystals are a premium energy source. Bad news, they are in short supply. So only the most prestigious and monumental ships were upgraded with this energy source and advanced weaponry. Most smaller ships were denied this ascendancy. And I can proudly say… wait for it… The _Incursion_ scored the upgrade. Unlike others of its size, the _Incursion_ was singled out from the fleet to receive the insurmountable advancements! Yeah, eat that _Terminator_ and _Litigator_ crews! They're probably crying on their downgraded pillows.

So here's the news: The _Incursion_ received its final the Kyber Focusing Crystal installment just moments before General Hux and his surviving command staff boarded. (I know you are probably questioning why I am referring to my ship as an 'it' instead of as a 'her'. Well, ever since the Hapes females have invaded our manly territory, the words 'her', 'she', and 'bra', have been largely forbidden by Captain Phasma. No one is to talk about ladies while she's aboard and no one is to ask her again what a bra is. She even shot a soldier for inquiring about what the 'time of the month' was. Still, no one knows the answer to that one.)

Anyway, the whole arrangement of making the _Incursion_ the new flagship brokered a smooth evolution for our ship, even though Captain Mer'shen had a stroke prior to the General's arrival due to hearing news that his daughter married a Twi'lek black market male dancer. Rumor has it that he killed himself by eating too many expired field rations. But whatever the case, his death and the newly installed crystals made an easy transition for the General and his command staff to take over the ship. And for us to receive the princess! The imperial princess! Rumor has it that everything she touches turns to platinum and she smells like Coruscantian daisies. Never smelt a Coruscantian daisy, before but I hear they are supernal. I personally haven't met her yet, but they say that walks on the blood of our enemies and is protected by dead spirits. Seriously, she is protected by dead spirits! That or the crew are labeling Lord Ren as a dead spirit, and if they are, there just might be a lot more dead spirits on the ship soon.

That and I must note, our ship has been invaded by space lice-ridden Hapes pirates. But that is all I am going to say on that. As it is, we are currently forbidden from discussing the Hapes lice-pirates situation until the General has resolved it after a meeting with their leaders that is currently preceding as we speak. Rumor has it that the Hapes pirates are trying to buy industrial strength pesticide and steal our slab sandwiches in exchange for their women. I'm not fond of rumors and should probably strike any report of them from this log, but if I die from lice bites tonight, I want to go on record that I told them not to board space pirates bringing superbug pests as gifts.

On a side note, can I vent about work? Honor be to the Supreme Leader, but there are days when you just have to vent about your co-workers. You know how aboard a Star Destroyer each standard day is blocked into six four-hour-long shifts divided among three crew sections? Well, everyone knows that the swing and night shift crews are a little… well, odd. They are weird. Real weird, as in freely-kissing-Republic-humanoids-in-the-dark kind of weird. And yes, they are the ones responsible for leaving up the toilet lids and spreading rumors about dead spirits haunting the officer's lounge. Respectfully, tonight I was assigned to work the graveyard shift with them. By the Four Moons, they are rushing down like a herd of nerfs to engineering, just to watch some battle between two of the Hapes females! And now they're talking that Lord Ren has gotten involved. But, he hasn't yet killed anybody? Now, you know they're just talking banta fodder. Everyone knows that Kylo Ren kills people everywhere, all the time. Ensign Li'u, where are you going? What do you mean, 'called to inventory engineering canisters'? We just did that yesterday. Blast! He left too. ... ... ... ... Maybe, I should... ummm...go see if the… uh… security detail are… uh, handling the situation in engineering. Just for protocol. This is Ensign We'lin signing out.

 *****The next chapter should be up pretty soon. Thank you for reading.******


	26. Chapter 26

"I don't care who started it!" Lieutenant Commander Ru blustered at the end of his patience with the two women.

The only thing preventing him from calling in Captain Phasma to handle this situation was his pride. Well… that and the fact that Phasma was more likely to shoot him as well as them.

Desperately trying to keep his anger in check, he stabbed his index finger at the Hapan sisters. "If you two don't stop this right now, I swear I will turn this ship around." He really didn't have time to think about it, but he just quoted his mother. Yes, his mother. Of all the twisted things he could have threatened them with, he ended up quoting his mother.

The two breathtakingly beautiful women just eyeballed him for a stunned moment. There was something awe-inspiring about having a gorgeous red-head and flawless brunette gape at him in silence. It was that surreal moment in every man's life that every man dreamt about… (okay, every man whom didn't belong to the First Order: those men hardly even knew what a woman was.) But there he was living the dream: gorgeous women centering there attention only on him. Yes. That rare-and-sanctimonious-second the beautiful creatures were quiet. Glorious and profound. It was enough to cause him to backpedal a bootstep, regretting that he had yelled at them in the first place.

So what if the east quarter of engineering was in shambles. So what if metal beams fell severed and steaming, sliced in half by the ladies' electroblades. So what if energy canisters scattered around the area as crew members scrambled to restock them in their cylinders. And should it really matter that medics flustered about attending to the staff that somehow got in the way of the ladies' weapons or were injured by falling debris?

It all meant nothing when those glorious and magnificent pairs of eyes stared at him. And so Ru was lost as those beautiful lips parted in perfect breaths. Yeah, so the control panel sparked behind his head. And he ignored the staff cursing as they tried to put out an electrical fire. There before him was perspiring, perfect beauty focused finally only on him. He licked his lips. And what was he saying again?

The containment systems screeched startling the lieutenant commander back to his senses. Heavy hopefully-female proof barriers slammed down around them, shutting off the sector. Fresh troopers poured into engineering with the energy of a swarm, rifles ready and waiting. Ru's eyes moistened, burning from the tear gas wafting of the women until he blinked himself completely free of his trance.

Ru waved his hands slowly down as if coaxing a couple rancors into their pens. "Put the weapons down. We'll buy both of you new belts."

"I don't want a new belt!" Blaze shrieked, swinging her massive electro-buzz saw at her sister. "I want that one!"

The Lieutenant Commander still felt baffled as how she possibly fit that gargantuan weapon inside her bra in the first place. Instinctively, his eyes drifted somewhere below her neck. And that's when the Hapes warning: 'A man will lose an eyeball for staring at womanly assists,' careened into his mind. The Lieutenant Commander swiftly averted his glance.

River smacked her backside at her sister. "This belt looks better on me," she mocked, shaking her tushy at her steaming sibling.

Eyes bugging, a nerdy engineer nearly dropped an explosive canister. Dar'ios gas. One tumultuous bump and the entire deck would blow up. Horrified, Ru bounded to help him.

River continued to shake her hips. A line of new troopers gaped mesmerized, weapons nearly forgotten. She finished the shimmying with another butt slap. "So, get yourself a new one."

And with that, the goofy engineer dropped the volatile container.

"Nooo!" Ru slid on his stomach, catching the explosive cylinder seconds before it hit the ground. Relief flooded his senses. He exhaled a pitiful sigh and dropped his forehead to the metal floor.

"I will never marry," he mumbled, "Never."

A growling groan erupted. "I will kill you!" The smoke began pouring out of Blaze's ears. Literally. The tear gas was starting to evaporate.

"That belt was signed by He'roies Kilson," she rampaged, slicing the energy tip of her buzz saw in erratic motions. Crazy eyes. Smoking hair. Blue electricity flickered off her blade, licking the air in hissing sparks.

A stormtrooper elbowed his comrade. "She's hot. So hot!"

Ru shot him a dirty look and gently and oh-so-carefully placed the dar'ios gas container in its protective sheath.

"What?!" River shrilled, her sparking whip almost slipped forgotten from her fingers. "Kilson signed it?!" She swiveled her head and hips scanning the belt on her pelvis like a mir-cat chasing its tail, "Where?"

"You didn't know?!" Blaze ground her teeth, voice increasing in volume, "How could you not know, when you are wearing it?!"

"Because I didn't!" River yelled back.

Ru rubbed his temples. The girls had two volumes: Afterburner loud and ear-piercing shrieks loud. And neither volume, nor phraseology made a lick of sense.

"He signed it for me!" Blaze screeched in barely understandable Hapan.

"As if you could get anything signed by Kilson," the scarlet retorted.

"Who's Kilson?" Ru blinked rapidly. The more he was trapped with the females, the more confused he became.

They both stopped to regard him as if he had the brain of a space gnat.

"Only the most amazing singer in the Hapes Consortium," River gasped, apparent horror on her creamy face.

"Nobody has a voice like him," her sister added dreamily.

"A singer?" Ru's pale eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "All this over a singer's signature?"

"And my belt," Blaze finished for him, not bothering to add the 'no duh!'

The two women rolled their eyes then apparently decided to completely ignore him in favor of returning to killing each other. River managed to get the upper hand, and kicked her sister back towards the coolant piping.

A few men cheered her on. The gorgeous ginger poised for them with a couple of hair flips for their benefit. They whistled.

Jittery as a razor-cat, Blaze shot her eyes back and forth between them, enraged that she suddenly was forgotten about. "If she doesn't give me back my belt, I swear will blow this whole _skugging_ ship!" She ranted in a wide-eyed schizo burst for attention.

The engineering crew gasped. A few started crying and praying. One skinny loser even passed out in a puddle of his own sweat… or was it urine? Alarms echoed, flashing lights overhead.

On the other hand, a group of the night shift had pulled up chairs, holding buckets of snack kernels, riveted by the whole affair, perched safely behind laser proof transparent polymers. A ruddy faced man with ears the size of an Ewok's head, raised his fist, cheering the menstruating monster on.

Aiming her surprisingly massive electro-buzz saw over the reactor core's coolant pipes, Blaze spat, "I mean it! I will blow this _poodoo_ up!"

Blaze shot her sea-foam green eyes around erratic. "I'm not joking." She ground her teeth and lifted her saw higher, digging her fingers into it's energy settings.

Her blade whirred, lashing out larger spikes of electricity. "I swear, I will do it!"

Sparks tethered out from the buzz saw's teeth, licking the cold metal of the pipes in scorching strokes.

River gave up her posing display for the soldiers and groaned. "You're just looking for attention, Second Sister," she sneered, "I'd just like to see you try blowing this ship up. You don't even have the ovaries to do it."

"You think I won't?" Blaze raised her buzz saw, it's rumbling electricity cooking the remaining tear gas particles in the air.

Crew members's eyes watered and their noses ran, faces inflamed from the fumes. One man smiled, wiping a tear, "So beautiful."

"Ohhh…" Her Space-bat—fodder-craziness surmounted, "I've definitely got the ovaries to do it. My biological clock is—" the whites of her eyes widened in a berserker's stare. "—tickin'. Tickin' like a thermal detonator!"

A maniacal choler distorted her mocha features. "I'd blow this whole ship up, just to see your fear, Third Sister. You always take everything that's mine. Always!" She shouted then curled her lips in wild jealousy, "And everything always has to be about you! You and your countless paramours. You and your expensive needs. You and your fake hair and fake nose!"

"Darling, none of this beauty is fake," River made a swirling motion with her hand over her face and angled her whip to accentuate her fabulous figure then scoffed flicking her index finger at her, "Unlike your bargain base extensions and clip-on nails."

"Die!" Blaze raised the electro-saw above her head. It whirred louder with her fury.

But before they could bring their weapons to bear on each other….The buzz saw and electro-whip suddenly stopped in mid-air.

Lord Ren entered, hands raised. Both women's weapons ripped from their grasp to fly into his palms. Crew dove for cover.

In a mere pinch, he crushed the weapons in his fists. The weapons burst into protesting sparks then exploded, hardly leaving a mark on his gloves but scorching the ground and walls nearest him.

Satisfied, the dark lord flicked his hands. Blaze and River watched in dismay as the remains of their last weapons fell in charred ash.

They gaped at him. A tiny squeak escaped River's open mouth before she lifted her fists to her chest and swirled her hips in a gleeful dance. "Oooo! I want him!"

Blaze just twisted her upper body away from his, grabbing her elbow with her other hand, cheeks reddening. A small exhale puffed out her lips.

"You," he crumbled the ash remnants of their weapons onto the metal floor, "are going to pay for all the damage. Either with your lives or—"

"Me!" River delightfully shuddered with a tawdry grin and squealed excitedly, "Me first! You can kill me anytime, you nasty sith you." She waved her arm above her head animatedly then gushed, "I volunteer to die in your arms!"

"You just might," Ru poked his head out from behind his cover, volunteering the warning.

Kylo snapped his head to him. The man quickly shot back behind his hiding place.

"This is not fair!" Blaze rampaged further. "I'm the one suffering here, and all anyone can ever do is focus on River! She took my belt. My belt!"

Kylo ignored her, turning his dark rage on Ru.

"Now, Lieutenant Commander," his icy voice seemed twice as dangerous from his mask's audio-filtration. "Why didn't you do that?"

Slipping out from behind a crate, Ru's pale face turned ashen. He gulped shaking and stuttered, "Because… I c-can't, your l-lordship."

"That's right," Kylo towered over him ominously, "You can't, because you…" he enunciated slowly, "…are inferior." The dark knight raised his hand, index finger and thumb inches apart.

Ru flinched accordingly, knowing exactly what was going to happen. The darkside's intense pressure sensation erupted in his throat, starting to choke him.

A screeching sound broke the dark knight's concentration. He released Ru's trachea and snapped his head to the women. The lieutenant commander stumbled forward, gasping for air.

Blaze tore into River's hair like a mad woman. The red-head hooked her sister's knee with a heel sweep and down the two of them went, tearing and hissing. Rolling on the ground, the hellcats wrestled viciously, shredding uniforms with clawed nails.

All men stopped. Even the dark lord himself.

"Is this how they have been the whole time?" Lord Ren watched the scuffle.

"Yes," Ru massaged his throat, managing a small squeak, "I'll break them up, sir."

"No," Kylo said quickly, smacking Ru's chest with blocking hand. "That won't be…" he trailed the female wrestling match with his helmet. Pieces of ladies' uniforms flew into the air. He finished as if in afterthought, "…necessary, lieutenant."

Ru accompanied him in ogling. "Yes, sir."

The women tumbled together, ripping fabric and tangling limbs. Every man's head tilted to the side in unison to get a more … appreciative view of the female squabble. Eager troopers whipped out their imagers, heartily recording the action.

The fracas trundled in another direction. Men's heads and imagers followed. River wrapped her sister in a headlock as Blaze tore into River's sleeve with her teeth. Male eyes tracked their movements back and forth as if it was a laser ball match at the last quarter, teams tied.

Blaze grabbed a fistful of red hair and tore at it, yanking her sister into a broken canister with her. Only pausing long enough to scream, River pounced back at her sister returning the roots-ripping favor. Shrieking and hissing, the two hellcats rolled their battle throughout engineering. More canisters went down.

Ru flinched, scrunching his face an shoulders. "Maybe I should stop this."

Kylo Ren tilted his helmet in the opposite direction, along with the troopers dogging the women's brawl, "You break them up, lieutenant," the dark knight said in no uncertain terms, "and I'll kill you."

Ru noticed the aspect of the battle the sith was earnestly viewing, "Duly noted, sir." He tipped his head like the other men, opening his mouth slowly to form an 'o'. "Wouldn't dream of breaking them up, sir. Wouldn't dream of it at all."

He fumbled to rapidly take out his imager and start filming.

"You will send me a copy, lieutenant," Lord Ren ordered, not bothering to remove his eyes from the women.

"Yes, sir," Ru replied just as distracted as his superior.

"So that's what a bra is," an astounded trooper's realized from behind them.

"Send me two copies," the dark knight said suddenly.

 *****This wouldn't fit in one chapter, so I had to split it into three chapters. Sorry that it took so long but I haven't had time to write little lone edit. Please excuse any typos if there are any.******


	27. Chapter 27

—-

The conference room cleared out in lingering and hesitant clumps. The Hapes nobles filed out the door under stormtrooper escort and First Order Officers inched out around them desperate to get to showers to cleanse themselves, perchance the space lice permeated the sanitized air. Technically, the first one bustling out of there was Captain Heg'ir still sobbing over his destroyed video game.

Hux intermingled among the remaining noblemen and officers, signaling orders and offering politically stiff smiles. He wasn't a politician. He was a general, blast it! The whole diplomatic interlude had the irritation of a dirty abrasion.

A little blonde head weaved through the gaggles of men to catch up with the Hapes Prince and throw her arms around waist. "Fuo'stil!"

Awkward and startled, the middle-aged prince lifted his arms, turning his head to her. "Shakal?"

Some of the other Hapes nobles stopped to blink at the exchange. It baffled their culture for a female of the princess's standing to be so openly friendly. In fact, it was apparent that every action she took that entire night curtailed all their beliefs concerning feminine behavior.

Ignoring the befuddled looks, she prattled on, "I'm so happy that we're together again, like one happy family… you know as we were supposed to be."

Hux shot a glare at the two troopers who were supposed to keep the princess at a distance from the Hapes men. The guilty soldiers looked anywhere but at him.

Fusolder chuckled lightly, not nearly looking even half as exhausted as Hux felt, "I do not have anymore brothers worthy of your hand, my most cherished Shakal. Unless…" his face blushed, "you desire marriage to me, but I," his voice faltered as he pierced his lips a second before continuing, "would never be able to produce you an heir anymore. Not after," he cut himself off, saying instead, "I have many reasons to hate the current Queen Mother."

Apple pulled away from his chest with a disturbed pout. "Ewe gross," she shuddered as if to vocalize 'TMI' but instead said, "I'm despising that woman more and more." She brightened, "But that's not what I meant about family. Besides," she patted his arm tenderly, "you are much too old for me now."

A flash of realization crossed his features. "Ah. You wish to marry Resolder then," he turned his head to call to the teenage noble.

Hux flashed the man a malignant look.

"Nooo!" The princess's eyes widened, shaking her head rapidly. "I'm much too young to get married. Besides after your brother died, my father forbade me from even dating until I was 34."

"34?!" Hux burst aghast.

The two flicked their attention to him. Face reddening, the general cleared his throat, pulling at his collar with his index finger.

"Uhhh…" Hux's mind raced to find something to say to cover his verbal blunder, finally stumbling lamely, "Aren't protective fathers… um uh…wonderful?" He laughed nervous.

Fusolder lifted a quizzical brow at him then returned his attention to the princess with a sage-like expression. "Unless you marry Resolder," he ventured, finally appearing exhausted, "we are never going to be family, I'm afraid."

Apple blinked rapidly for a moment then laughed, "Oh you Hapes are always much too literal," she said it in such a way that a mother would teasingly speak 'naughty boy.'

A grin lit up her features, "I meant this is a marriage: between the First Order and the Hapes Consortium," she explained then with a devilish expression, spoke out the side of her mouth to the men's horror, "Technically its a marriage between you two gentlemen."

Both prince and general gaped at each other mortified when she put it that way. She twitched her eyebrows at them with an impish smile, relishing their fidgeting. Then her expression flipped back to her usual adoring self, throwing her arms back around Fuo'stil in the attitude of a child.

"But we are now family, and I," she continued beaming. She rubbed her cheek against his midsection happily, "get to reap the benefits."

She pulled away to glance back at Hux. "Go on now, you two, seal this amalgamation—"

"Amalgamation?" Hux felt his muscles tense. In his mind, it was a firm annexation.

"Seal it by shaking hands," she clarified with eager glistening eyes.

"Shake hands?" Both men burst aghast.

"Of course," the corner of her mouth turned up in an impish grin and she fiddled her fingers together with a pout and demur sway of her hips, "it was how imperials sealed their transactions. Then again, I couldn't possibly expect you two to adhere to customs from my day."

She sighed a pitiful sigh, glancing at them out of the corner of her eye. "We can just forgo ritual and ceremony, seeing as you both are not so congenial to my old fashioned court ideals, I won't hold you too them."

Hux swallowed his distaste and tugged again at his collar. "No…No, your highness. I am always …ah congenial to your ideals."

The Hapes prince shifted his rigid, bleak stance then relinquished with a subservient nod. "As am I, your highness." His expression appeared no less disturbed by the idea than the general's.

Hux's brittle smile tightened as he went to exchange a handshake with the prince. The other man appeared equally as chilled. Neither one of their cultures considered a "handshake" as an appropriate form of nonverbal agreement… 'Hands touching' was reserved for loved ones, not business transactions, but after the princess insisted on it—in that adorably enthusiastic way that she always did about absurd things—they both conceded and shook hands with a stiff upper lip.

"Splendid!" Apple clapped her hands, beaming.

A flash erupted. The princess posed with a classic grin as their image was being taken. A princess selfie with the men shaking hands in the background.

Horror filled them. The guys snatched their hands back as if the other was a Sarlac pit.

She tossed the imager to a nearby officer. "Post that on the universe data stream, would you."

The venomous glare Hux sent the tufty-haired officer would have struck the man dead, but he was too busy carrying out the princess's order to notice the nonverbal death threat. The general snapped his attention to her. Grinding his teeth, he thought of a few choice words, but nothing would dare come out in light of her adorable doe-eyed expression. The general dropped his head defeated by a sixteen-year-old girl.

With a beaming smile, Apple interlaced her arms in the nooks of his and the prince's elbows as if about to take a stroll. "Gentlemen, we have some publicity to do. If we go about all of this in secret then forces will rebel. So, let's take a quasi-open stance and publish this as a 'trade agreement' to the entire universe. Transparency is the key to success."

The princess released Fusolder's arm to pat it, "It's so good to see you again, my dear friend." Her expression turned serious, and to Hux's delight, she didn't release his arm, instead she curled closer to him.

A sensation rippled through him, drying his throat and drenching his palms. Logic remonstrated the emotion. He knew what she was doing. A nonverbal signal to the Hapes prince of whom she stood with and trusted. Yet, still… she was touching him. And her touch was soft and gentle like a tender breeze on the beaches of his home.

"You have chosen wisely," she said to the prince, "General Hux here is a military genius. I have seen him in a vision triumphing against an armada three times the size of his."

Hux clamped his mouth against his shock. She hadn't told him of any vision.

"We will help you gain freedom from that tyrant you call a Queen," she continued, "Your men's strength will add to ours, and our strength to yours. We will not falter, nor be defeated in this measure. And I trust that, we will be able to integrate your men with success?"

Her tone formed a question, but both men knew that, she was stating which culture she had preference for.

"Our men," Fusolder nodded, "will have no problems. But I am concerned about our…" he hesitated, "women."

Apple's lips broke into a lovely smile as she released the general's arm. "Yes women are complicated creatures, and I can say that without bias since I am one. But let me assure you, my good princely friend, women no matter what culture they come from have one thing in common: the need to feel loved and secure." Her smile widened. "And we shall provide just that. Now," she clasped her hands together, changing the subject turning to Hux, "my esteemed general, I'm sure we have quarters sufficient for our guests. They are now…" she shifted her eyes side to side considering, "…clean of parasites. So I doubt it is wise to send them back to their own ships." She glanced up at him submissively, "But it is your decision and I trust your judgment completely."

Hux tipped his shoulders in a swift bow, resisting the urge to grin. She called him 'her' esteemed general. "This is a Resurgent class star destroyer," he replied proudly. "There will be no problem in housing a few extra…" He wanted to say miscreants, instead chose the more diplomatic route, "men."

Her lips broke into an even more charming smile. "You truly are a great leader."

Hux felt his insides soften.

"And Fuo'stil. We definitely have some catching up to do," she touched the tips of her fingers under her chin. "I missed you, my friend."

Hux's insides churned with rousing anger.

"I feel the same for you, honorable Shakal," the Hapes prince bobbed his head a few times, before he straightened himself briskly.

Hux focused a pair of blue daggers at the man's back as he was finally escorted out of the conference room.

Apple curtsied slightly to the general then ventured blindly off towards the remaining gaggle of officers and soldiers, whom bowed to her. He watched her movements. Her blindness resulted in her touching every man's arm in turn, sparking flickers of jealousy in him, but he quenched the emotions quickly. Once she was his wife, things would be different. She'd be his and only his… as she was meant to be.

"Do you plan to set up the draft tonight, sir?" Rokens' voice asked, startling him.

The general pivoted to him, and clasped his hands behind his back. "It's an absolute necessity, unfortunately."

"Should I call in the command staff?" Rokens inquired, looking less than thrilled.

"Half. I need the other half able to function tomorrow."

"Several pots of caffeine?"

"Bottomless," Hux attempted to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. "This will be an all nighter."

"Noted, sir." Rokens saluted him then spun on his heel and left.

The young general waited until the last man vacated the area, before he sank in a seat. He hunched miserably in his chair. A sense of triumph should pervade, but he didn't feel it. Not at all. Sapped, he leaned his head in his hands, tempted to scrub his face with wiping motions as if to rid himself of the hours of stress that will follow. He needed a brandy. Or two. Or ten.

A pair of gentle blue eyes watched him from across the room. Nibbling her lip, the princess made her way toward him. Not able to see the end of a chair's corner she smacked her shin into it.

"Oww!" Her pained gasp startled him back to reality.

He glanced up to see Apple, hopping around on one foot rubbing her shin and mumbling a few choice words.

Stifling a chuckle, he dropped his head and slapped his hands on his thighs hoisting himself up. "Your highness," he waved his way through the scattered chairs to her. "I thought you had retired." Concern etched on his features. "Are you injured?"

"Only my pride," she quipped, "All the force in the universe and I still can't see a metal," she blindly felt the offending item for clarification, "chair? It's a chair."

He offered her his hand, "Come. This way."

When the tiny porcelain hand touched his, a sweat broke out instantly on his brow and his tongue felt numb. If she knew the effect she had on him, he would most certainly be undone.

Placing his other hand on the center of her back, he guided her into the adjoining lounge. Her hair entangled his fingers. Another surge of anxiety threatened his reserve. He in took a long breath.

"You'll be… happy, I mean safe.. I mean better suited," he stumbled over his words, nervousness driving his intellect into oblivion, "in here."

"I recognize this feeling," she chatted conversationally once they reached the lounge's door, "This is where I promised to wait for my nephew."

An icy hand gripped his heart. "You were waiting for him?"

"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly, "he is my eyes. I wouldn't be able to do anything without him."

"Perhaps…" He shifted uneasily in his boots. "Another… more," cleared his throat, "deserving man…" he felt his chest tighten, "might suffice… as…" the perspiration on his brow and palms increased, "your future…" he managed to squeak out, "protector."

She just stared at him with her large unblinking aqua colored eyes. And under the scrutiny of her look, Hux desperately began to wonder why the door's automatic sensors weren't working. The more she stared, the more his desperation rose.

"Why isn't this blasted door opening?!" He complained, gripping its edge. With a creaking sticking the lounge door shuttered open to reveal an unmitigated disaster.

Apparently the Battle for Endor ransacked the adjoining lounge. When the cleaning droids saw the disaster, they turned over and died. For the first time, General Hux was grateful that the princess was blind and could not see the mess. He contemplated fleetingly whom he should fire for such a mess, then shrugged it off as another Kylo-apoclyapse. Hux grumbled inwardly that it should come out of the man's pay. Then again, Snoke made sure the cretin was paid better than even he was.

"Perhaps, my office would be more appropriate—"

"I promised Kylo that I would wait here for him."

Hux's mouth turned down in a harsh enough frown that if she had been focusing on his face she would have thought it was a scowl.

"Very well."

He helped her over broken droid's remains and kicked a shattered fridge door out of their way.

Guiding her to the couch, he eyeballed it wondering how safe the matted thing was. It looked like someone had put a thermal detonator in its left arm and shoved a rancor in its cushions. But half of it was untouched as if the Kylo-nado hadn't known the other half existed.

The princess reached a bandaged hand out for the sofa gingerly before daintily sitting. He couldn't help but scrutinize her movements. Even her slightest step was graceful. Court trained imperials were perfect. Simply perfect.

She folded her hands in her lap, waiting a moment in perfect poise until giving up with a long sigh. Popping up and down in her seat like a frustrated teenager, she puckered out her bottom lip.

"May I vent?"

Hux blinked his eyes rapidly, torn between bewilderment and elation. "Yes, your highness. You may tell me anything you see fit."

She frowned for a parsec at his formality then busied herself with touching the bandaged tips of her index fingers together. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, pouting. It was a tender but half-blind look directed more at a place just beneath his chin then at his face, but still he relished it quite the same.

She asked in a little voice, "Is it wrong to not want to do this?" She hurriedly clarified, "To usurp their Queen. I mean she should be dethrowned, but is it wrong for me to hesitate?"

Hux drew his head back slowly and moistened his lips. On instinct, his eyes started searching the destroyed lounge for liquor.

"I…" she ventured hesitantly, swallowing a lump, "I am afraid to be their hope." Her expression wasn't so much as alarmed as it was resigned.

Fear would have been a choice emotion for someone her age entering an intergalactic civil war as a prophesied figurehead.

But instead, she sat calm and collected, except for wringing her bandaged fingers every once in a while. That telltale action was even interrupted by tiny pained hissing sounds upon wringing her injured fingers just a little too succinctly.

She shifted her blind eyes towards him, flitting to focus on his face rather than the air around his head. "Do you think… perhaps, someone else might be be better suited to be their symbol?"

He resisted a bark of laughter. "No one would be a more superior symbol of pure truth and order than you, your highness." His anxiety fled under his mirth. "You are the granddaughter of the most powerful emperor. The last remaining heir to the imperial throne."

"But the empire is gone." The vulnerable and delicate way she appeared at that moment stirred him. Smoothing the folds of her white gown until the imperial symbols on her skirts were perfectly straight and reflected the illuminescent lights, she straightened her shoulders then gave up in a petulant pout.

"I don't mean to complain," she continued, "they need me and this amalgamation is most certainly a triumph for the First Order—"

General Hux corrected her curtly, "This an annexation, our Ohuenschluess, your highness. The Hapes wouldn't have a chance of an amalgamation." A second after the taciturn words tumbled out of his mouth, he flinched at their own folly.

Apple lifted a hand to her mouth then laughed. "Shameful." She tittered more, "truly, you are shameful."

Decidedly she fluffed the pillow next to her. "Couldn't you just call this an amalgamation for their sakes? We are," she moved her palms up and down considering, "in a way, combining our forces, even though they technically are being absorbed into the Empire—" She blushed and quickly corrected her ownself, "First Order." Her eyelashes fluttered abashedly at her mistake, "I've really must get used to… Well, everything being different now."

"I consider the Empire and the First Order the same."

"I don't," she said definitively.

He froze. A multitude of thoughts tumbled through his mind. Some of which bordered on embarrassment and others, a sense of pride that remonstrated in a rant on the glories of the First Order. And he opened his mouth to tumble out recriminations, demanding her to see their triumphs as honors to the Empire, but her thoughtful expression stopped him. He closed his mouth, forcing an impassive look on his face.

"I prefer the First Order," her lips formed a soft smile, which was for him wonderfully contagious, "it is more… I don't know… Safe."

His muscles eased. "Safe? Of course." He found himself rambling in a halting manner, "We pride ourselves on establishing order and eliminating chaos."

"Oh yes, and I find it wonderful," she remarked half-distracted by a pillow and began patting it with a childlike vengeance, "Simply wonderful."

Tempted that her patting the pillow was an invite for him to sit next to her, the general eagerly made his way to the couch. But stopped the instant he realized that she wasn't fluffing the pillow… instead she was shaking glass particles off it onto the floor next to her. She twitched her eyebrows with that absurdly comical widening of her eyes, "I'm assuming the droids missed a few spots."

He chuckled nervously. A few spots? That was an understatement.

She hit the dark fabric with her palms like the thing was alive and needed a good spanking. Glass flecks sprung off it in all directions. "Okay, so maybe they missed a lot."

Hux watched her girlish movements, mystified and more than a little anxious. He bit the back of his knuckle. The princess carried on as if she had taken it upon herself to suddenly make the area around her pristine despite the couch innards speeded out next to her shoulder and elbow. His feet twitched with the need to flee, but his soul yearned to join her on that ratty couch and make the most of their time alone together.

Everything about the princess was nauseatingly cute. She prattled with the pillows a little more, then glanced curiously up at him for a quizzical moment before returning back to her fluffing.

"Do you suppose the rest of the universe shares the First Order's perspective on safety and regularity? Fusolder seemed to agree with you quite well, but…" She hesitated in her pillow-fluffing, "I'm not sure other cultures will."

Hux puffed up his chest, relieved that the subject became something he was naturally eloquent in. "The entire universe shall be brought to complete realization that our ideals are superior and benefit all. If there is resistance," he stressed the word 'if', "then it will be simply crushed."

She laughed heartily, "I like your optimism, General." Her eyes danced as she fought against an amused grin, "but I doubt even you can make the entire universe believe in a single set of ideals."

"The Supreme Leader can and he will," he interjected from instinct. His unintended sharp tone hit the princess like a slap.

She closed her mouth quickly and blinked her long eyelashes for a moment, staring directly through him. After a painful moment, she ventured, "A Sith Lord?"

Hux tugged at his collar and swallowed. "In a manner of speaking…"

The princess nodded, expression indiscernible, "Then my grandfather's legacy continues."

The impulse spurned him. Thrusting his anxiety aside in a momentary burst of emotion, he crossed the room to drop to his knee before her. Hux snatched her hands in his, "And it will continue in your children. As your husband—" He didn't finish his sentence suddenly realizing that the crunch he heard when his knee hit the metal floor was the glass shards piercing his kneecap.

Hux shoved his knuckles into his mouth to keep from verbalizing his pain in a rather unmanly way. He hissed, spinning himself to sit on the couch next to her. "Bloody stars!" He finally cursed unable to contain his pain. Glancing down at the injury, he bit back his next choice words.

Nearly a hundred pieces of glass protruded through his trousers to stab into the flesh of his knee. Blood oozed and dripped out, drenching the fabric. He hissed his breath again through clenched teeth.

Apple gasped. "Should I comm Dr. Wintlock?"

"No!" He scrunched his face painfully, determined. "This is just a minor wound."

"There was a first aid kit around here somewhere," she scanned blindly about herself.

He snatched it off the broken stand next to her, holding it up with tight pale lips. "Here."

"Brace yourself," she warned him as she took the metal box from his hand.

With a graceful arch of her hand, the glass shards shot out of his knee. He thrust his fist into his mouth to keep from yelping. The searing hot pain lasted but a second but it was enough to shake the remainder of his reserve. Where was the blasted brandy when he needed it?

It didn't take long for her to bandage him up even in spite of her blindness. But his pride was so pricked, he scarcely could say two words together to her.

She patted the bandage with the palm of her hand for good measure and then returned her attention to his face, or rather his forehead. "I really think you should hail the doctor, but," a pout formed on her lips, "that is your choice."

He nodded mutely.

Biting her lip, she considered for a moment then held her hand over his injury. A peaceful warmth filled the wounded area, replacing the sting. A small golden hue emanated from her hand into his skin. Paling slightly, she removed her hand and the light disappeared, along with the majority of his pain.

He tested his leg, bending and straightening it. He winced at a sharp pain, but it was still only a portion of what it once was.

"It's not completely healed," she warned quickly, "So I wouldn't run a race on it just yet. It'll suffice for tonight though."

Attempting to reorder his thoughts, he swallowed convulsively. "Thank you, your highness."

Her eyes drifted to his face. "I never thought to ask before, General, but what is your given name?"

Delight and anxiety battled within him. "Armitage," he managed to croak. He tugged at his gloves then worried the edges of his sleeves. "My name is Armitage, your highness."

"Armitage?" She tried out the name then smiled, "I like it."

The general could feel the back of his neck growing hot. He blinked rapidly. "My father named me," he let slip, then squeezed his eyes shut grimacing the second the lame words left his mouth.

"I think that's what I will call you," she said decidedly, "Armitage."

She continued, "I remember the Hux family. There were five brothers… all very loyal to the empire…"

The sound of her voice faded into the background. Her face was so close to his as she sat beside him on the couch. He ignored the spring digging in his back as he stretched his arm over the back of the couch around her.

Hux licked his suddenly dry lips and leaned closer. "Yes, you are absolutely correct," he said not hearing one word.

His fingers itched, tempted to entangle themselves in her hair. A ribbon wrapped braid flicked onto his arm as she prattled on about the heritage of his family. He scooted closer, breathing her in. She smelt like flowers and candy.

The door shuddered open. He jerked his eyes to it so fast he had a moment of vertigo. His disorientated mind could barely register what the sound truly was until the nystagmus halted. He jumped his upper body back away from the princess, features reddening to the roots of his auburn hair.

Rokens forced the door open with his boot and back pressing opposite sides. "Someone should really fix this door." He complained, jarring it open the rest of the way.

Straightening his uniform, the commander collected himself in a perfunctory manner. "Sir, your team is assembled."

Hux's features hardened. It didn't take the Commander more than a second to realize what he just interrupted. But to the general's surprise, Rokens didn't inch back out the door apologizing.

Instead, he squared his shoulders and said, firmly, "The team is ready for you sir. I will arrange for troopers to guard the princess while she waits for her nephew. I imagine as soon Lord Ren returns, she will wish to retire to her own quarters… since she is a lady of high reputation and standing."

The hidden reprimand from his subordinate surprised him. Rokens in truth was protecting the princess's reputation. And for that, Hux wouldn't kill him, but he wouldn't tolerate any further acts of insubordination even from him.

"Of course," Hux conceded and achingly stood, doing his level best to keep his weight off his injured leg.

He jerked at the edges of his uniform's jacket and brushed off his sleeves. "If you will excuse me, your highness." He bowed at his waist, eyes mesmerized by her heart-shaped face. "Until next time."

She nodded and then yawned. "Goodbye, Armitage. Tomorrow?"

A smile lit his features. "Yes, tomorrow." With that, he limped out of there, ignoring the commander's disapproving look on the way out.

Rokens manually jerked the door shut then spun on his superior. "With all due respect General, may I speak freely?"

Knowing what was coming next, Hux allowed it. "You may."

"That, sir," he jabbed his forefinger at the closed door, "is a sixteen-year-old princess."

"She turns seventeen in two weeks," Hux corrected him too absorbed in the blissful thought of the princess's smile to care that his inferior was scolding him.

"Does it matter, sir?" Rokens asked then hissed under his breath. "She is an innocent princess: One with a reputation to protect. What if word got out that you two were alone together at this forsaken hour?"

"I want her," Hux stared at the closed door with a pleased smile, eyes reflecting a deepset maniacal obsession. "I want her more than anything else in this universe."

Rokens slowly moved his head back away from his superior's candid revelation. He ventured, "Then marry her, but don't tarnish her reputation with unchaperoned moments of passion."

"There was no passion," Hux admitted with a disappointed sag of his shoulders. Limping over to a chair, he crumpled into it. "Not one. I got injured and she spent the time, tending to my wound." He shifted his upper body towards the commander. "She has the most gentle touch. Everything about her is a soothing balm." With a frustrated howl, he pressed his palms to his eyes. "My own hesitation, my own folly is destroying my efforts to get close to her."

"And that in there was not close?" Rokens lifted a quizzical brow at him.

Hux removed his hands to let his eyes focus on his subordinate. "That was nothing!" He snapped. "The moment I am close to her, a pressure clamps down on my heart." He threw his arm out to the side. "Today, I broke her mother's priceless heirloom, was unable to even provide her dinner, and then the moment I sought to propose to her, I brought my blasted knee down on a bed of glass!"

Rokens waited for a moment before leaning against the conference table. "I'm not an expert on women sir, the four moons know that I am a sucker for domineering she-beasts, but I'm assuming no woman will agree to a proposal from a man she just met. It's…" He struggled for the right words, then just went for it, "creepy sir."

Hux's eyes blazed for a moment then he considered the commander's meaning. He nodded, and waved a dismissive hand, "True. I wish to court her grandly… and instead," he glanced away at the empty conference room, relieved that the commander hadn't gathered the diplomatic team there. "I have failed at every turn."

"Not entirely," Rokens reputed with tight lips. "She choses to address you by your first name. Court her with chaperones in place. It is an imperial custom to have another always present, and it will also alleviate your… anxiety, sir."

Hux nodded in agreement a few times, stopping mid-nod when he realized his subordinate's last word, "Anxiety?" He stalked towards him, suddenly malignant, "How did you surmise that, commander?" He deliberately loomed over the shorter man.

Eyes wide, Rokens gave ground. "It's not that apparent…" his voice quavered deliberately avoiding his superior's eyes, "it's—"

Hux held up a hand, cutting him off. "Enough." He dropped his head and exhaled loudly, before scrubbing his hands over his face. "How many know?"

"Only those that know you well enough," the commander replied relief flooding over his entire frame. He bowed at his waist to say in a lower tone, "Only those that are loyal and well-versed in discretion. And we all fully support of your upcoming nuptials."

"Upcoming nuptials," Hux echoed with a smile.

"And we all support the maintenance of the princess's impeccable reputation," Rokens added.

The general nodded briskly. "Yes. My intentions towards her will remain just as impeccable. Arrange for chaperones."

"Her Hapes Ladies-in-waiting—"

"From what I hear, they are less than worthy of even chaperoning themselves," Hux interjected crisply. "For now, you will act as chaperone. No. Those harpies will not do." He shook his head, shuddering his shoulders. "And I fear the influence they will have upon my amiable, pure princess."

Rokens considered with a scrunch of his mouth. "How troublesome could they possibly be?"

Hux just shifted his eyes to him, questioning his intelligence. "They are Hapans. How could they not be trouble?"

 ******There are more Hux-Apple scenes to come. One of my readers asked for a Hux-Apple scene so I am writing them. Please send in your reviews. Thank you tons!******


	28. Chapter 28

—

Engineering—in one word—was a disaster. Crew members ate buckets of field rations behind glass barriers cheering on the women. Many whooped, pumping their fists. A few "I love you"s erupted from their ranks.

The oldest Hapes sister Roan had come by twice, but seeing her younger siblings were still beating the living tar out of each other, she left promptly left each time.

Drenched in sweat and tear gas, the sisters panted exhausted. Clothing torn, hair dissolved, and still flashing hateful eyes, the wild women glared at each other taking a moment to catch their breaths.

"You finished?" Ru asked them.

"No!" They both spat at him in unison.

Blaze wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, hardly removing her fiery eyes off her sister. She growled through haggard breaths, "I want my belt."

"Over my dead body," River retorted through pants.

"For the love of the stars!" Ru burst. "It's just a belt!"

"It's not just a belt!" The women shouted in unison. "Stay out of this!"

They weren't the only ones that wanted hm to 'stay out of it'. Several crew members pelted him with snacks, yelling for him to 'shut up' and to 'let them fight.' Enraged, he spun on them. The crew whistled, staring anywhere but at his rage.  
"Who threw the chicken wings?" He sounded shrill and strained even to his own ears. "Who threw the chicken?!"

How they even got the Mandalorian chicken wings on the ship in the first place was beyond him, but the lieutenant commander was not in the mood to investigate the smuggling of alien chicken aboard a Star Destroyer. He was too tired and too angry.

A loud gravelly sigh erupted from Lord Ren's mask. It was rare to hear the Knight of Ren to sigh, so every crew member froze.

His shoulders started shaking. A gurgling sound tumbled out of him until it rolled into a loud garbled laughter.

Stormtroopers slowly backed away. Ru inched behind cover. An impending doom filled them to the core as they assumed the terror that was going to follow—and none of them wanted to be in the Knight of Ren's sights when it did. The dark laughter stopped in a disquieting second.

The black and silver mask slowly turned back to the women. "Ladies…" The baleful voice began, wafting a haunting sensation, "you're finished in your exploits…" Lord Ren reached his gloved hand inside his tunic. "…if you want…"

All the men flinched, cowering. Eyes wide they swiftly hid themselves, even the crew behind the protective barriers dove for cover.

"…this." Kylo whipped out his fist.

Peeking from behind his cover, Ru saw to his surprise an expensive jeweled necklace dangled from the sith's fingers.

River took an intake of breath, eyes widening. She waved her arm animatedly, jumping up and down to some of the crew's delight. "Me! Me! It's mine!"

"Give up the belt." Lord Ren coldly held out his other hand, crunching his fingers back at himself.

"No…" She recoiled an inch, but her eyes never left the necklace.

"You want this?" He moved the piece of jewelry back and forth.

Her head tracked after it like a rancor a piece of meat. He moved it to the left. River's head turned to the left. He held it up. She looked up. He lowered it. Her attention followed.

"Hmmm," he mused to himself, not sounding particularly happy, "Apple was right." He moved the necklace in a circle, testing the red-headed zombie.

She moved her head in a circle.

"Fetch." Kylo Ren tossed it to the far corner of engineering.

River scampered after it. He force snatched the belt from her hips as she ran after the necklace. The belt flew into his palm.

"All this over a belt?" He grumbled to himself, dark side wafting off him in disgust. "Wasted anger."

He tossed the leather strap at Blaze, barking, "Now go to bed!"

She caught it, nuzzling it against her cheek. "Thank you! Thank you!" She cooed to the belt, "My baby is back. Yes, you are my Kilson baby. That's right."

River squealed, dancing with her brand new necklace. "It's so pretty! So pretty!"

"Girls are weird," an officer said beside the dark knight.

Kylo swiveled his upper body to look at the Ensign. "Only crazy-afterburner witches. And these," he held open his hand at them, "Are Crazy-A witches."

Strapping the belt to her hips, Blaze swayed them back and forth as if testing it out. With a coy smile, she curled a tear gas soaked, green lock around her finger at Lord Ren.

"What is she doing now?" The dark knight asked, sounding not particularly favorable to her change of attentions.

"I think she's flirting with you, your lordship." Ru came out of hiding, straightening his uniform jacket.

"Good hell," Kylo threw up his hand, "I'm going to bed." He spun on his heel to stalk off.

"I'll go with you!" Both women piped up then glared at each other.

"Oh no." Ru felt the color drain from his face.

Blaze howled at River with the fury of a Bantha. "You always go after every thing that I want."

She kicked a small canister at her sister.

River ducked. The canister sailed over her head to slam into a walkway above three engineers. They scrambled out of the way.

"Is someone going to stop her?" A random officer asked.

Lord Ren yawned behind his mask. "I see nothing wrong with her now."

The troopers all looked at him. Yeah, _he_ wouldn't.

"It's a pity that she doesn't have the force," Kylo commented further, unfettered by their horrified expressions, "she'd make supernal Knight of Ren."  
"She's like a female version of you," a nameless crew member murmured under his breath.

Kylo flicked his wrist and the technician went flying, tumbling over a railing with a scream.

Unconcerned that the man he tossed was dangling for his life as two soldier's attempted to rescue him, Kylo watched as Blaze tore apart a metal crate with her bare hands. Then threw the metal carcass into a line of troopers, knocking them down. Kylo nearly smiled, impressed.

"Hmm…" He noted with admiration. "So maybe the technician's observation was accurate." With a shrug, he waved his hand disengaging the security barriers and strode off.

"So," River sauntered up next to him, "You doing anything later?" Her smile turned sensuous, "Say for breakfast?"

The dark lord continue walking away.

"Ever consider taking off that mask," she flirtatiously nibbled on a tear-gas covered curl. "I could take it off for you."

He stopped to eye her disheveled form up and down. "Have you ever considered taking a bath?"

"If you'll join me…"

"Do you have the force?" He asked, audio-filtered voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No."

"Of course you don't," Lord Ren stalked off, black cape billowing behind himself, "you're inferior."

"I could bear you a force baby," she called after him.

"Only with subpar powers?" He flipped an obscene gesture back at her. "Not interested. Hail me when you have the force yourself."

"You're so hot!" She shouted to the dismay of more than half the men in engineering.

"I know." With that the dark form disappeared.

She curled a long scarlet lock around her finger to chew on it. "So surly. I like it."

—

Hux returned to the lounge to find the princess curled up on the couch, sound asleep. "I shouldn't have left her here," he frowned to Commander Rokens.

"But she insisted on waiting for him."

"Yes," the general ground his teeth, "for him. And where is the blasted sith?"

"Apparently the women gave engineering more trouble than anticipated." He glanced at his data pad. "Lieutenant Commander Ru assigned Ensigns We'lin and Li'u to escort the ladies separately back through security. There was quite the ruckus."

"And the eldest?" Hux inquired, more interested in watching the princess sleep then he was hearing about some Hapan banshee.

"No problems, except she seems to find the lavatories to be subpar," Rokens read.

The general watched as the princess curled herself more into a ball as she slept. "Simply angelic." He removed his outer jacket to cover her with it.

Tucking it under her chin, he carefully brushed the blonde curls away from her porcelain face. His fingers entangled in one platinum curl. Even in the lesser light he could see the darker shades of honey intermingle with the fairest blonde strands. He let the curl slip over his fingers. The length of her hair fell to her knees, and he took advantage of it, smoothing the curled tip of the lock against his lips. His nostrils breathed in her honey scent. He reached in his pocket. Slice.

"General?" Rokens lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Did you just cut the princess's hair?"

"No," Hux spun to him, hiding the cut lock behind his back. Discreetly he folded the pocketknife into his palm. "What makes you say that?"

Rokens chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

A mousy-looking ensign stumbled into the room, tripping over droid innards. He glanced curiously at what he almost tripped over then handed Rokens another data pad. "The route draft, commander."

Rokens flicked his hand over the touchpad. A hologram erupted off it into the air, demonstrating the new and improved trade routes. "Its most certainly a start."

"We need you to input the command sequence, sir." The young ensign said happily, "And then we'll be able to insert it into the agreement."

Rokens nodded. "Very well." He flicked his eyes to his superior for a moment then followed the pointed-nosed officer out.

Hux watched him leave then hurriedly scanned the area around the couch for more glass. He went to his good knee before the sleeping princess, placing his hands on the couch back and arm over her. "I love you," he breathed close to her hair.

Closing his eyes, he absorbed her scent. "Marry me, my darling princess." He brushed his lips against her curls, careful not to wake her. "Marry me. I will give you strong children, and," he snuck a lock of her hair to caress it against his cheek and open mouth, "we will rule the universe together."

She stirred, only enough to nestle under his jacket. The red insignia of the First Order fell perfectly under her chin. Her lips parted in gentle breaths. He moistened his own lips. Just one kiss. He leaned closer, eyes on her mouth.

His hand slipped from the couch's back to intertwine in her long hair. "I love you," he whispered close to her mouth, "my sweet… perfect… princess."

Apple woke with a start, smacking her forehead into his nose. "Kylo!"

The general fell backwards, crashing into the coffee table. His hands went to his bloody nose, half in pain and half in astonishment.

"Oww!" She rubbed her forehead. "What did I hit?"

Hand on her reddening forehead, she blinked down at Hux sprawled before her grasping his face. Horror flashed across her features.

"Armitage!" She gasped, going to him. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean too—" She babbled, almost on the verge of tears.

"Oh, here," she stuffed a handkerchief with her royal symbol on it into his hand. "Hold this against it, while I put pressure." She slipped her fingers onto the bridge of his nose. "I am so sorry."

The outside door hissed open.

Kylo Ren swept in, stopping stock still upon seeing Apple kneeling over the fallen general. "Please tell me you were trying to kill him."

Apple burst into tears. "I fell asleep waiting for you and Armitage apparently was just trying to cover me up with his jacket," she held up Hux's spun fiber coat, words spilling out rapidly, "But I felt your presence and suddenly woke up." She bawled, "I hit him in the head with my head, Kylo!" She blustered in-between sobs and sniffles, "And I think I broke his nose!" The last word came out as an unprecedented sob.

"Good," Kylo moved to snatch her arm, uprooting her to her feet. "He probably deserved it."

The dark mask slowly faced Hux, a cold menacing air wafted of the sith. "And you called him Armitage?" He encircled his aunt in his arm, pulling her close. He glared at Hux over her head. "At what point, did you two enter such familiarity? Especially being here in the dark alone."

"Oh we're not alone," she sniffled. "There are two stormtroopers right there." She pointed at the other door. "See."

"Apple, they're outside the door."

"Oh." She blinked then realization hit her in a wave of blushing, "Oh!"

Kylo steered her away. "You're going to your quarters."

"But what about his bloody nose?"

""Let him call the doctor," Lord Ren said steely then turned the helmet balefully at Hux a final time, "he'll most certainly need him."

And the unspoken threat was duly felt.

 ******So I will level with you, this one is not edited at all. So if there are typos, grammar errors, etc. I am sorry, but I'm just trying to get these chapters out. Please send in reviews and comments. I'd love to hear them.*******


	29. Chapter 29

Kylo paced, dragging his lightsaber tip against the metal floor. Sparks followed his ominous movements. "I should rip his throat out." With a roar, he attacked the computer consul with extreme prejudice. Electrical fragments fled into the air, leaving gaping scorch marks behind. Wall panels sparked in protest. The lightsaber tore through the bulkhead behind it.

A lofty technician strolled down the parallel hall, whistling and jamming to some music blaring from his headset.

The scarlet lightsaber pierced out the bulkhead inches from his face. "Holy Spice!" He stumbled backwards, spilling his toolboxes. And like the brave man he was—he scrambled out of there in one parsec, bug eyed and probably scarred for life.

"I want Hux's innards at my feet," the dark knight ranted, before marking the other walls with more Kylo-was-here-burning-red-Xs. "I will severe that filthy general's head from his shoulders!"

Momentarily satisfied with his destruction graffiti, he turned to Apple catching his haggard breath. Malignant anger wafted off of him in starship-loads.

Leaning against an untouched wall, the princess watched him, picking apart the strands of one of her curls. "Hmmm…" she postulated, "Kylo?"

"What?" The mask's filtration deepened his breathing in a wonderful rendition of her father.

"Swing your lightsaber this way," she arched her hand to the right.

Baffled by the request, he followed with his lightsaber.

"And swing it that way." She moved her hand in the opposite direction.

Still a little confused, he obliged her.

"Oooo!" She jumped, clapping her hands. "So pretty! Do it again!"

He threw his head back with a groan, shutting off his lightsaber. "Why'd you have girlify it?" He held up his saber for her to see, although her blind eyes missed the metal mark by several inches. "This is a masculine weapon. It's not pretty. Never call it pretty. It kills people. It is a pristine, man-killing weapon of destruction."

"But," Apple pouted in a cute little voice, "it looks so pretty when you wield it."

He dropped his head and shoulders with an exasperated 'gugh' sound. "Why'd you have to ruin the dark moment? I was having an epic dark side flow, and you—and your 'pretty saber' routine—ruined it for me."

"I didn't ruin anything. You've had several dark side moments," she grumbled defensively, "every 500 meters you've had a—" made quotation marks with her fingers, "'epic dark side moment.' We haven't got but 500 meters without you having a 'dark side moment.'" She told him sternly then suddenly beamed, "But don't get me wrong, I simply adore your 'dark side moments'—-you're so cute swinging your pretty saber, all powerful and—"

He howled, curling his fingers into his fists. "You make me so angry!"

"Ahhh," her eyes misted over touched, "that's the sweetest thing any Sith has ever said to me."

He jabbed his lightsaber handle in the air at her, ready to rain down a rage-filled rant then stopped, suddenly exhausted. Losing his steam, he chose to just correct her instead, "I'm a Knight of Ren."

"There are only two non-balanced force users in this universe: Sith and Jedi," she told him matter-of-factly, "You, my perfect nephew, are a sith." She finished out the side of her mouth, "because if you were a jedi, I'd have to shoot you myself."

He stiffened then chuckled despite himself. Shaking his head, he admitted somewhat mollified, "I can never stay angry with you."

Her smile dropped flatly. "Now don't insult me."

Kylo patted her head, "No, you've done that all on your own."

The princess swatted his hand away, chuckling, "Shut up!" A yawn broke her laughter. "So are you finished?" She asked in that unprincess-like-yawn-voice she apparently only reserved for him. "Because I'm really tired. And as much as I'd like to see you rip a hole through this star destroyer—because that would be seriously awesome to watch—I want to sleep. Sleep is good. My bed is calling me, saying," she mimicked a sage-like zombie voice, "Apple, you want to sleep in me. You want sleep. Sleep. Sleeepppp!"

"Was this before or after, the scumbag general tried to get you to 'sleep' with him?" Kylo asked a little too bitterly.

She just blinked at him. "Why would he do that? Did they run out of quarters?" Concern flashed across her face. The princess turned her shoulders a little to the side to murmur to herself, "Did I put the ship in a bad position by asking him to house the Hapes dignitaries for the night? I could've sworn the ship was bigger than that."

Kylo jerked his head back astounded by her pure innocence. He snarked, disbelieving that anyone could possibly be that naive, "The Grand Moff of Creepy Town tried to pick up on you while you were asleep and you're telling me that you didn't notice?"

"Did you just say 'Grand Moff of Creepy Town?" She burst into laughter—the kind that 3 AM and a bad joke produced. She grabbed her midsection, laughing, "Oh that is so funny my sides are hurting."

Her laughter eased his anger.

"Yes, and the Hut-wannabee," he smirked behind his mask, "has a shrine to you in his office. Adorned with love letters and crappy drawings of you."

"Most officers have a shrine to me,"she said with an exaggerated arrogant flare, then flipped back her hair with a pretended haughty flourish. "Because I am all that—A galactic icon. An imperial superstar. All hail the amazing Apple."

He snickered, reattaching his saber to his utility belt. "Keep telling yourself that."

"The fact is that I am an imperial princess, Kylo," she shrugged serious, "a lot of officers have crushes on me. We can't kill them all because they have some fantasy that I'll ride some nerf off into the sunset with them. You know as well as I do, that overtime I walk down these halls some crewmember—"

"Your highness," an excited masculine voice called, "can I get your autograph!"

They both turned to see a slobbering night-crewman waving his data pad with the eagerness of a gungan.

Apple stifled a laugh, opening her hand at the man as if to say, 'see.'

"Get out of here!" The dark lord roared at the poor loser.

With a scream that put any 10-year-old girl to shame, he scurried out of there like lightning.

Kylo turned to his aunt, not missing a beat, "But this creeper talked to your frozen carbonite form."

"I had a Nabooian fish, called Meryl," she tried to relate, "I used to talk to him."

"He held full conversations with your carbonite wall-hanging and stroked your frozen cheek."

"So he's a little two troopers short of a platoon." She shrugged, "He's a general at twenty-one. It's going to be a given that he's little certifiable. By the stars, anyone'd have to be to graduate the academy at such a young age." She leaned forward to whisper conspiringly, "I hear they feed them spoiled nerf meat and pickled wookie toes there to toughen them up."

Kylo snorted air out his nostrils. "He's a scumbag."

"All generals are scumbags," she said then yawned widely, "that's what they do. It's what makes them so great at winning wars. But at this hour, I don't care if he was a rebel jedi bent on stealing Grand Moff Tarkin's underwear so he can wear it as a hat. I want sleep." She started to amble off in the wrong direction.

He snatched her shoulders, steering her back in the right way, but paused to gently squeeze them. "You're too naive." He held her upper arms, rubbing his thumbs back and forth against her sleeves, "You can't see the trouble that's in front of you."

A sad smirk twitched on her lips. "I can't see two meters in front of me."

Kylo dropped his hands from her, sourly, "For once listen! He was trying to pick up on you while you were sleeping."

Another yawn erupted for the princess's mouth. "He wasn't trying to pick up on me."

"Yes," he informed her straightly, "he was."

"Oh, just take me to my quarters." Apple threw her head back and stomped her feet in a frustrated dance, "I'm so tired." She stopped suddenly. Eyes wide, her cheeks puffed out in a big gulp of air. "Tiiiii-rrrrreddd!"

The Knight of Ren regarded her simply. "You re-injured your own feet doing that, didn't you?"

"Yes," the word burst out in a pained exhale. She cried like a tired little girl, "they hurt real bad." She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, "I think I killed my toes, all ten of them."

Kylo spun his body to the side with a bark of laughter. Collecting himself, he turned back to her. "Come here," he shook his head grinning behind his mask. He swooped her up into his arms.

"But your ribs?" She protested in a little voice.

"I'll kill you," he snipped.

She pouted petulantly, "Kylo Ren, if I cant worry about your health, then what can I worry about?" She chastised him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Father wouldn't let me worry about him either. He too was naughty like that."

He didn't bother responding. Instead, he held her close to himself, wondering if his grandfather considered her as much trouble as he did.

 ******This one was written tonight, so I'm not even going to bother apologizing for typos and grammatical errors. I just didn't have it in me to edit it. There will be more Hux-Apple scenes for those of you whom are fans of that pairing. I just have to get things set up for later scenes. If you like my story, please send in a review. I love to read them. They truly make my day. Thank you for reading!*******


	30. Chapter 30

Lady Roan leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest, waiting. Rather waiting for River to cease her coquetry with another officer. What was his name? Ensign Li'u. Some low-ranking officer that was assigned to escort them to their quarters. After they had been put through a Stars-awful cleansing process, leaving them dripping wet and wearing oversized men's clothing. Apparently not a lot of women ventured aboard the frigid starship. Roan lifted a dark disapproving eyebrow at the bleak hall. And she could see why?

While a couple of very uncomfortable and jealous stormtroopers watched on, River toyed with the unfortunate Ensign, entangling her fingers into his hair and masterfully upturning his cap. She slipped her arms up around his neck.

Roan counted silently. _One… two… three._.

Her third sister—curly red-hair dripping wet and borrowed jumpsuit practically bursting the zipper at her chest—snatched Li'u's uniform collar with a sultry grin and kissed the living starship out of his lips. In another heartbeat, she decimated the distance between them into nothing. The man was a goner. Not that Roan cared. But her youngest sister knew how brandish her lips better than most warriors knew how to brandish their weapons. And this willing victim wouldn't possess the capacity to think of anything else but River tomorrow.

Roan glanced at her wrist timepiece as her sister nibbled on the young man's bottom lip. She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. He was hardly anything to look at, with his large ears and small beady eyes but River's taste never was affected by the eyes or ears or even the face. She just preferred men in uniform—which was rare where they came from. Men were not permitted in the officer ranks in the Hapan Consortium, nor hardly in the military. But apparently among the First Order, male soldiers were in abundance.

Casting a sidelong glance at her sister's …ahem…efforts, Roan waited.

The stormtroopers jostled their white armor, straining their necks to watch. River could put on a show. And that was one tantalizing show.

Distractions were what they were and River knew how to distract. One soldier even muttered an awestruck, "Dang!" under his breath, as River took her smooching up a notch or two… or ten.

Blaze strolled behind the riveted troopers, smoothly plucking something off the nearest one's utility belt. It was discreet and well-planned. And better yet, unnoticed.

A different soldier approached her from behind to tap her on the shoulder.

Blaze flinched, freezing.

He coughed into his glove. "Uh…" His audio-filtered voice asked hesitantly, "you want to… uh… catch a… I mean, want to go… uh, have a cup of Benzarian coffee with me?"

Second-sister slit her eyes at him. "Get shot out an airlock," she hissed then strutted away leaving the rejected soldier to droop his head and shoulders disappointed. She wasn't the one in the family to entertain male whims. That was River's specialty.

With a calculated kiss that could distract even the most focused of men, River inched her fingers into Li'u's breast pocket to slip a small metal device out.

Blaze crossed past River's back at the precise moment she palmed it. She slipped the cylinder to her sister. The exchange went unnoticed by the men… all as planned.

"River!" Roan snapped on cue. "Leave the man alone!"

Her sultry sister pulled away, feigning paltry annoyance. "Fine," she clipped and drew her fingers across the man's chest as she withdrew from him. She whispered to him, "Tomorrow."

The Ensign wobbled on his feet, drowsy from the power River had over weak-hearted men. He nodded vigorously, reeling.

Mouth reddened from her lipstick and face reddened from whatever thoughts men had when suddenly bereft a woman's passionate kisses—Li'u inhaled to steady himself. "Ummm… yes… ladies, these are your… ah, quarters." He opened his hand at the barren hall.

Then realizing his disoriented mistake, he quickly swooped his hand in the direction of a set of secure doors. "They were the ah…" He became distracted by River blowing him an air kiss. Shaking his head of it, he quickly punched in the security code.

The doors hissed open to reveal an expansive set of quarters much more ornately decorated than Roan would ever have guessed for such a bland ship.

"I hope you.. approve of them," Li'u squeaked when River purposely brushed past him to go inside.

Roan ignored them as the men chattered on about the rules and curfews and having to lock them in their quarters for security and safety reasons. Blah. Blah. Blah.

"Thank you," she spun on her heel to face them, long black ponytail whipping around after her. "And on that note, it is time that my sisters and I retire for the evening."

"Yes. Yes." Li'u stammered, "Of course." He sent a longing glance at River, but she was already flirting with one of the stormtroopers, checking out the diameter of the soldier's biceps.

"Out!" Li'u barked, snapping the stormtroopers to attention. The men filed out with the Ensign sending one last beady eyed languishing stare at the youngest Hapan sister.

River waved her fingers in a rippling goodby then blew him a kiss as Blaze hit the door controls, shutting them in his face.

"Seriously," Their mocha-colored sister complained, "did you have to take so long sucking on that tweed's face?"

"He had a nice mouth," River shrugged unrepentantly.

"And a nice security cylinder," Blaze held up the cylinder device with a triumphant grin then frowned, "but did you have to call me a horrific cow earlier? I mean really, your hips aren't that perfect either."

"Yes, they are," she slid her hands down her sides, "but you needed to look angrier. Your acting isn't," flipped her hair proudly, "as sophisticated as mine." She shifted her amber eyes to their eldest sister, "Do you think the princess is the real thing?"

Roan chewed on the inside of her cheek. It was normal for her sister to readily change subjects like that… she had the attention span of a Ursiol newt. But Roan wasn't really ready to answer that question. They knew nothing of the imperial princess, nor her lineage. It could all be a fallacy or a trap set by the First Order to ensnare them. "Well, at least she's not a male," she finally answered, throwing out the only reply that could distract her sisters long enough to obtain precise intel on the possible heiress.

"We could always wait for Resolder to have a daughter," Roan offered after a moment of thought.

River snickered, sending a devious glance at her other sister's way, "If he ever gets married, isn't that right Blaze?"

Second-sister just shrugged and plunked at the nearest computer console "I'm not responsible for his unrequited feelings."

"Sure you're not," River replied slyly, "But you could be the mother of the next Queen."

Blaze scoffed at the idea, "The prophecy says 'fair-haired' descendent. And how is Resolder supposed to father a fair-haired daughter to me?"

"Perhaps we should steer the princess towards him." Roan interjected, "I hear that she is about his same age… biologically that is. And she is supposed to be very fair-haired."

"Who'd want a husband that was their own age?" Blaze didn't bother to cover her distaste. "The one thing Resolder does have going for him—besides his lineage—is the fact that he is three years younger than me, as a man should be."

"So you _are_ congenial to the idea of making him your husband," River twitched her eyebrows.

A rough snort burst from Blaze. "Not hardly. I have darker taste."

"Resolder bears my coloring," Roan made a face at her. "How much darker could you possibly want?"

"I meant mysterious dark," Second-sister rolled her eyes, "not hair coloring dark."

"Like that sith?" River interjected.

Blaze's face reddened slightly. "No."

"He's definitely my taste," River criss-crossed her feet in dreamy steps then twirled to plop backwards on the plush pink striped couch. "So…" she made an intrigued hissing sound, "sexy."

"He's dangerous," Roan warned.

River shot her head up to prop herself upon her elbows with a grandiose smile. "I know! And his uniform!" She slowly melted back on the couch stretching her arms above her head to swoop back towards her red curls as she arched her upper back slightly, "To die for!"

"You have _that_ notion right," Blaze snickered then looked away with a blush, "He could kill a thousand with one blink of his eye. Quite powerful for a man." She looked at the other two. "Did anyone by chance glimpse his face? Was he handsome?"

"He wears a mask," Roan said flatly, "How handsome could he possibly be?"

"They all wear masks," Third-sister replied then giggled her attraction, "that's their uniform. Their military uniform. So sexy."

"The officers don't wear masks," Blaze contemplated. "I wonder why. Do you suppose they aren't in the heat of the battle like the ones that do wear helmets?"

River popped her head up, "Speaking of officers, wasn't that Ru just so adorable. I could just kiss him."

"You could ' _just kiss_ ' anyone," Roan commented, a tad amused at her sisters' brevity.

A pillow shot off the couch at her face. She caught it in one hand and suppressed her lightheartedness behind a business-like scowl. "But we don't have time for men. We have a mission."

"Whatever." River slipped off the couch, "I'm going to the bathroom: I need to clean my mouth with mouthwash."

A twisted smile blipped on Blaze's face. "But I thought you liked that officer."

"He had nice lips, but…" She nearly gagged, "his breath tasted like Lou's Grease Pit, and I am sooo not into carbs." With that she perused into the depths of the quarters.

"By the cosmo-way, good job, Blaze." Her voice drifted from the back as she past the expensive curve-lined furniture and delicately-decorated pillows, "These quarters are definitely," ran her fingers along the stuffed arm of the silken wingback chair, "more than sufficient."

Blaze didn't bother glancing her way, the light from the console flickering on her face as she jacked the security cylinder into the control box. "I'm the best." She held her hand palm up over her shoulder, offering Roan a square digital-key.

"Don't get too cocky. We still have much to do," Roan snatched the square item from her to flip it over and examine it, "What is this?"

"A key to our brothers' cells," Blaze answered not even pausing in her hacking. "I swiped it from that stormtrooper."

"They weren't placed in cells," Roan retorted, not sure exactly why she was arguing the point except that she was tired, "They're being held in normal routine quarters. I was surprised to find that they were being treated as well as they were."

"They're under rifle and lock," Blaze flit her eyes across the screen as the holoscreen initiated lifting up out of the console to turn the air before her blue and green. "That's the definition of a cell."

Roan nodded, conceding the point, "And we will liberate them, if it comes down to it."

She finally took a moment to scrutinize their new surroundings. Pastel colors, ribbons and flowers adorned the quarters. Soft fluffy rugs covered the metal floors. Perfect blooming flower arrangements enveloped ornate vases. A tea set perched on the elegantly curved coffee table.

"These quarters look too feminine for a male bridge Captain," Roan narrowed her eyes at a silk throw laying across the couch then turned on her sister sourly, "They better not have been the princess's."

Blaze shrugged. "These are way too small for a woman of her stature."

River called to them from the other end, her voice echoing across the largest vast room. "It's got a sauna and… oh my four moons! Is that a waterfall supersize bathtub?! I could fit twenty soldiers in here!"

"Way too small, huh?" Roan lifted an eyebrow back at Blaze. "I swear by all the true Queens, these better not be the princess's quarters."

Blaze didn't seem to nonplussed about the idea. "Did you get the codes?"

"Of course," Roan pulled a security cylinder out of her cleavage. "Your show was spectacular enough to give me time to get the security codes to the entire fleet."

"Well then," Blaze moved her hands over the controls. "Let's see what these men are made of."

"Apparently not much. They let you destroy nearly half of engineering," Roan flashed her half of a smirk, but for her that was almost as good as a grin.

Blaze returned the grin, hers slightly more darker then her sister's. "It was quite the performance."

"I do have to wonder…" Roan eyed the room, "If these aren't the princess's quarters, then which man were these feminine dwellings made for?"

Her sister shuddered. "Who are we to question what off-worlders do in their spare time? I just hope that these aren't the sith's rooms."

"Afraid he'll kill us?"

"No, I'm afraid that I won't be able to look at him the same again," Blaze replied, with a grimace then dove head on into the computer systems.

 *******I had to break this up into a few chapters. There wasn't time for a grammar edit nor to check for typos. *****


	31. Chapter 31

"He's scum," Kylo continued on his rant, putting down his young captive audience on her sore feet. "Adulterated scum!"

His gravelly voice roared down the metallic corridors in a sonic blast, slicing a protocol droid in half. Clinging to her nephew's tunic, Apple peeked around his bicep to watch the force blast dent lines down the metal walls, barreling outward in a high-velocity ripple of power. Her eyes widened. For a moment as the reddish-colored blast past, she could see a faint outline of the walls glimmer along its course. To her force sensitive eyes, she could see every particle of the force ripple against the metal.

"Ooo!" she whispered, watching the wave until it blinked out of sight.

Happy at her revelation, she glanced up at where Kylo's head should have been, but instead was a glob of blackness on top of his shoulders because of that blasted helmet. Too bad he always wore the thing. Biting down the thought, she chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. She realized interrupting him at this point was probably worthless.

Kylo was too enraged in his own thoughts to recognize that he just accidentally performed an advanced force technique, her father called the _Force Wave_. If her nephew had concentrated at all—Apple shook her head—he could have perhaps easily expanded it into a _Force Repulse_. Now _that_ was a technique her father praised. An extremely potent telekinetic explosion of rapidly-expanding kinetic ripples in space. Say that five times fast. And no matter how one said it, it always amounted to being: A high-velocity Force Fart. Granted, her father would have grounded her for a month if he had heard her call it that. He revered the technique and had mastered it quite well. Very few ever did. And accomplishing it was a triumph of power. Only a true Dark Master knew how to work a _Force Repulse_. A giant spherical force explosion which radiated out from the force user… In other words, a powerful force fart of destruction. A lopsided grin threatened her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, reprimanding herself for her lightmindedness. ' _Sorry father_ ,' she silently apologized, ' _I'll try not to think of it as a force fart_.' Then again, it really was a force fart.

Her eyes flitted back to her nephew. Still absorbed in his tirade, he kept ranting on about Hux. The boy was like a rancor with a bone. If he really hated the general, the man would have already been choked out like a Cornelian chicken by then. But eh, Kylo liked him. He just wasn't going to admit it.

Apple gingerly took a couple steps on the soles of her feet. Wincing, she hopped into a painful dance, favoring left then right then left then right. "I am quite curious," she diverted, forcing on a smile against the obvious pain in her feet, "how you can manage to be one of the most intelligent of men and yet repeat yourself 52 times."

"I have not repeated myself 52 times," Kylo growled under his breath.

"Fifty-two," she enunciated to stress her point, "you've called the good general scum fifty-two times."

"There is nothing good about him," he glowered.

"Whenever is there anything good about any general?" She asked.

She instantly surmised from the pause in his temper tantrum that he could see her point. A sharp prickling pain erupted in her toes and there went the dancing again.

From Kylo's perspective, the diminutive little frail creature prancing around on bloody feet exasperated him. He had no idea his power levels fluctuated back and forth between the dual sides of the force. Instead, he just knew he was just seething. Fuming. Raging. Storming—and because his innocent eyed aunt was staring at him—he was unable to kill anyone. Family pride nagged at him itching his saber hand.

Kylo threw out his arm towards the abandoned hall, bursting suddenly. "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not defending him." She blinked her large eyes incredulously.

"But you like him."

Apple regarded him blankly for a moment then shrugged as if conceding. "Of course I like him," she lifted her skirt's hem to scrutinize her aching feet, "he reminds me of Thrawn."

"Except that Thrawn was a blue-skinned Chiss and a virtual military genius," Kylo snapped bitterly, "Hux is a weak, red-headed, low-life scumbag."

"53 times," she flashed him a grin then quickly dropped the grin into a pout when his shoulders tensed.

Apple busied herself with the edges of his tunic, straightening them. "But why should you care anything that he does? When you are a powerful Sith Lord."

"Knight of Ren," he corrected her, the edge of his anger ebbing away. With a hidden scowl, he plucked her hands from his uniform, "And even then, Hux's indiscretions make mine seem innocent."

"Indiscretions?" She nearly laughed, turning away from him carefully on her tender feet. "You're a sith." A little bandaged hand flicked over her shoulder dismissively, "Sith don't have indiscretions. Father said that they always kept imperial law—Everything they did was according to justice and law. Even the inquisitors who tortured people were acting according to the laws. The jedi, on the other hand, were the outlaw, rebel troublemakers with indiscretions."

She glanced back over her shoulder at him in that impetuous way that gave him pause. "Thrawn even told me that the jedi forced their will upon others to serve their own chaotic purposes," eyes widened in the telling, "Did you know a Jedi Master tried to force choke Thrawn for defending his people and the order of the Empire?"

The ship's air filtration system blew a breeze through the edges of his cape for a few tufts before Kylo Ren asked flatly, "Are you sure that it was a jedi?"

Apple gasped. "It most certainly was a jedi."

"A Dark Jedi?"

"No, a plain old ugly jedi."

"A Gray Jedi?"

"A Gray Jedi?" She asked with an almost harrumph of astonishment that he would ask such a thing. "It was a Jedi… as Jedi as they come."

"That's a dark side technique," he commented stubborn as always.  
"Stolen by a Jedi," she retorted, just as stubborn, then quickly changed the subject back to her original point, "But you," the rest of her spun towards him with a delightful smile, "my perfect, preeminent and impressive nephew are a Sith… therefore unlike a horrible Jedi, you have no indiscretions." Her smile wavered a moment almost flattening, "unless you're planning on becoming a Jedi. Then I told you, I'd have to shoot you myself."

"No," he sneered… more snark than sneer, "I'm not planing on becoming a Jedi."

Proudly she strutted a few steps down the corridor with her head held high, "then you have no indiscretions."

"I killed my own father," he confessed abruptly. So abruptly that he even surprised his own other personality.

Apple stiffened, but didn't look back at him. Her little voice asked, "Were you ordered to do it by the Supreme Leader?"

"Of course," he answered, slowly straightening himself.

A strained smile turned back to him. "Then you are blameless."

"How is that blameless?" He clipped.

"How is it that you desire to continue to berate yourself over something that your master forced you to do?" She retorted a little more forcefully then he was used to from her.

Stunned, Kylo found himself blinking rapidly for a moment unable to reply.

"What did the Supreme Leader do?" She continued, "Promise you power? Offer you more of the dark side? Offer the ability to save some other loved one, if you sacrificed your father?"

A scowl almost entered her expression… almost. Instead, it morphed into a harsh but adorably angry pout that for some reason made him hate General Hux even more.

"Hux ordered the destruction of 5 planets," Kylo blurted almost as it were out of nowhere.

Apple withdrew her head back from his audio-filtered words as if she was slapped. Her lips closed into a dainty line.

"I see," was all she said. A moment later she added sadly, "Just like Grand Moff Tarkin."

"His great-uncle," Kylo hammered the nail in further. Let that be the general's coffin.

Apple nodded, eyes glistening. The numb-appearing nod occurred a few more times before she spoke. "So that was what the Hapes were afraid of? A new more powerful Deathstar."

"Starkiller," Kylo corrected blandly, cringing inwardly at the change in her countenance. "It was called the Starkiller."

"Starkiller?" She chuckled ironically. "Of course it was." Although she had her head turned away, the princess glanced at him sidelong. "Orchestrated by the Supreme Leader as well, I presume?"

"Yes," he admitted. A part of him suddenly regretted what he had told her.

The dark side was omnipotent. Anger was compellingly powerful. But at that moment, they dimmed in comparison to her solemn reserve. Not even his mother had that much of a reproachful affect on him. He scowled deeply.

The corner of her mouth turned up after a couple parsecs. "Are you sure he's not a clone of my grandfather?"

Kylo snorted a scoff. "Not hardly." Tension relieved, he finally gave the deck a once-over. And for the first time, he realized that they were far from where he had expected them to be. He had been so absorbed in hating Hux that he hadn't noticed the level markers.

As was envisaged of someone that was his aunt, Apple immediately picked up on his concern and scanned her blind eyes around. "Where are we?" She yawned widely, "I can't sense a single bridge officer in this area."

He shoved his fist into his tunic to snatch out a small data pad. "That's because it isn't right." Anger rising again, enough to tear a hole through a bulkhead, he jabbed the pad's touch screen as if stabbing it with his finger. "We're not supposed to be here."

"Don't tell me, we're lost," she tiredly teased then painfully shifted her weight with a hissing sound.

"We are not lost!" He jabbed the data pad more furiously. "Those logistics fools have you on the wrong floor!" He pounded in a code.

"They have you…" he stopped, glancing up at the door marker just ahead of them. His words trailed off in surprise, "stationed here?"

He snatched her hand, pulling her after him. "This couldn't possibly be your quarters—this is the enlisted floor." A low-pitched malignant growl rumbled out of his throat, "That son of Tarin!"

Punching in the security sequence, he felt his rage boil. The doors hissed open in a nanosecond.

Not the best quarters, considering the fact that they were transplanted onto the _Incursion_ after the _Finalizer_ and his own star destroyer were crippled during the attack. Having just awoke that day himself, he had serious doubts as to the level of luxury that his own temporary quarters afforded. And even so, the _Incursion_ was a far-cry smaller and less updated than his own ship had been.

He hadn't particularly noticed the discrepancies until the moment he waved his security cylinder across the quarters' locking mechanism. And there before him was a small-sized-and-starkly-bare set of quarters that a ship's Ensign would have used when he was so tired that he didn't care where he slept.

Kylo cursed under his breath. "The sons of murlaks! This room is beneath you! I will kill him!"

 ******The next two chapters are coming very soon. I just had to break this up into several pieces because the site wouldn't let me post it all at once. Please send in reviews and comments: I really appreciate them. And forgive any typos or grammar errors.******


	32. Chapter 32

Rokens sniffed a short breath through his nostrils before replying, "I'm not the best man to ask on such matters, general."

"But you'd admit she is divine?" Hux took deliberate strides back and forth across his office. The metal floor was beginning to turn black from the scuff marks. Hands clasped behind his back, he maintained a stark perfunctory demeanor. For all intensive purposes, he could have been discussing important matters of state, but the slight disarray of his dark auburn hair revealed otherwise. That and the growing bags under his red-rimmed eyes spoke volumes.

Instead, he was taking a break from the annexation agreement to widely reflect on the most absurd subject… his obsession with the princess. After being so close to kissing her, he couldn't stop contemplating about her, and taking the moment to pause and reflect on this current favorite topic kept him awake while the rest of the officers returned from gathering data. It was exactly what his exhausted mind needed other than a bracer.

"With all do respect, sir…" The swarthy-faced commander ventured carefully, "I must admit that she is too sweet for my taste."

Hux stopped stock still and cranked his face towards him. "Too sweet?" He repeated as if smelling the great stench of Sas'tich.

Rokens shrugged. "I prefer a more open temper in a woman. More like a man's temper."

"Open temper?" Hux found himself in such stupor that he was temporarily stunned into perpetual echoing mode. He finally shook his head of it so swiftly that he almost gave himself nystagmus. "We're talking about women, not Noghri. Tempers are appropriate in warriors, not women."

His subordinate widened his small golden-colored eyes then moistened his lips a few times before replying, "And which is your mother sir?"

Hux's expression turned deadly. "You will recount that statement, Commander."

"As you wish," Rokens shrugged again, "but you love your mother and she has a temper. I like her temper; it's…" His smile widened, "entertaining."

Relaxing a smidgeon, Hux moved to pour himself another brandy. "That is the Grand Admiral's wife, you are speaking so candidly of."

"His beautiful saucy wife with a temper that could put hair on a man's chest," Commander Rokens said in a dreamy voice.

Hux tensed then flicked his eyes to his subordinate's face. The shorter man wiped the leer off his face just barely fast enough to make him question it. "Excuse me?"

Rokens waved his hands rapidly. "We were talking about the princess." He tipped his upper body forward. "She is most certainly suited for you. I, on the other hand, require a more forceful woman, that takes charge, and—"

The doors hissed open. A tired Lieutenant Commander Ru and Chief Logistic Specialist Hefor'de marched in, almost in synch as it were. The first two of the command staff returned.

"It seems the Hapans were accurate," Ru announced, blinking his dually red rimmed eyes.

Ghastly. Hux bit back his thoughts. The pale man looked like the walking dead.

Hefor'de continued his commanding officer's spiel without losing a step, "The amount of ships and supplies they are offering to our cause is astounding, numbering 16,541 destroyers, 354,023 carriers, 5 million-four hundred—"

Hux held up his hand to cut him off. "It's too late in the morning to flood me with numbers, Lieutenant. I'm more interested in the substantial facts."

"It's true," Ru stepped in, "there is a dark energy source on three of the Hapan planets. It's unlike anything we have ever seen before." He held up a data pad, "And we have the measurements. It surpasses what we would need to generate three Starkillers and reinforce our entire fleet for decades."

Hux sent a sideways look at his second-in-command. Rokens immediately stepped into action. Swiping his hand over the controls, he glanced at the center of the room.

Hux took a side step out of the way, seconds before a control console lifted up out of the metal floor, the sheeting folding back like a spiked flower to make way for the pentagonal apparatus. With a gentle humming swoosh-sound, the console clicked into place.

The general stepped towards it, placing his hand on the control sensors. A holographic image of the Hapan Consortium planets as well as lined boxes with half-finished details of the annexation plans erupted into the air before him in a flash of green and blue holograms.

He eyed the various pieces of the annexation contract, the light's colors flashing across his corneas. "I want this to be impeccable. The Supreme Leader must be presented with perfection." He felt his exhaustion tear at him, so he threw back another mouthful of brandy. "And this is still far from perfect."

The doors hissed open as two more of the command staff entered.

"Gentlemen," he lifted the glass for emphasis, "grab yourselves a bracer. This is going to take… some more time."

The other men eyed the brandy, hungrily heading for it. No one couldn't say he wasn't a benevolent general. And with grateful looks, all except Ru poured themselves a tumbler, throwing the liquor back in gulps.

Hux shifted his eyes to the straggler. "Brandy not to your taste, Lieutenant Commander?"

Ru froze, shoulders almost hitting towards his ears. "Sir, with all do respect, my mother made me promise never to drink."

Hux shifted his eyes to Rokens. "You actually assigned me a Lieutenant Commander that doesn't drink?" He smoothly returned his glare to Ru, "It is an insolent matter for a general to put trust in a man that doesn't drink with him." Too tired, and perhaps too drunk, to enforce the habit on the porcelain skinned lieutenant, he sighed. "Very well, get yourself something caffeinated."

Ru fidgeted but didn't move. "Sir, stimulants neither."

Hux's lip twitched. Fatigued was slowing all of them down.

"General, mothers do have quite the influence," Commander Rokens smiled knowingly. "I'd say that yours is a very great influence as well."

Face flushing to his auburn roots, Hux bit back a retort. Instead he returned to the hologram, barking, "Now where are the new data sets!"

Ru mouthed, "Thank you, sir," to Rokens.

The ruddy Commander flashed him a lopsided look, "Don't thank me just yet, lieutenant. Don't thank me just yet, we still have an accord to finish."

—-

"This is an insult!" Kylo roared, slamming his fist into the metal wall, leaving a massive dent.

"The room's fine," she hobbled inside, looking so exhausted that she wouldn't have cared where she slept. In fact, she had already fallen asleep twice in his arms.

"That's because you can't see it." He felt his rage swell. His eyes shifted to the meager square table set for one in the corner, half tempted to take his saber to it as a demonstration of how he really took such an insult to his family.

"I can make do," she yawned, looking spent, "I'll put up some curtains in the morning."

"It doesn't have a window."

"Eh," she waved it off stumbling over her drowsy feet, "what's to see in space anyway."

"You're lack of anger is disappointing." Kylo caught her arm redirecting her away from the metal bench that doubled as a stand, and paused not sure that he wanted to steer her towards the bed, or he should say cot. "Quit being so infuriatingly content. That is not a bed—It is an adamantine cot! Not worthy of even a Twi'lek slave!"

Actually, the hard thing looked more like a slab of iron with a sheet over it than even a cot. Something he would have lived on in the Jedi Temple growing up.

"Does it have a pillow?"

He scrutinized the flimsy flat thing. "In a manner of speaking…"

"That's all I care about," she wobbled, body drifting side to side from the sudden release of intense exhaustion.

"Why do you have to be so nice all the time?"

"I'm not being nice. I'm being practical," Apple felt around before her. "Very practical: I'm tired. So tired that I am going to happily sleep in my clothes, and worry about my hair and makeup in the morning."

"You're on your own there," Kylo harrumphed. "I'm not going to help you."

"Not asking you too," she held up her hands in that 'just-saying' pose. "That's what ladies-maids are for."

"Those harpies?" Kylo sorted in disdain. "You'd be better off with a couple banthas."

"Hah hah," she replied flatly, "I'm so humored by that, I'm laughing on the inside."

He sneered, not particularly happy about the prospect of the Hapes additions, especially after witnessing their unladylike display. "They should be sent back to where they came from."

"Don't be such a grouch," she teased, twitching her eyebrows again, "You might come to like one of them."

"Do they have the force? No," he said more as an absolute ultimatum, "Not interested."

Rather a good portion of him despised what influence they would have over his impressionable aunt. The one was a battle-ax and the other a tart.

"But they're supposed to be beautiful."

"No force. Not worth my time."

"Come on." Apple scrunched her face at him, "You can't tell me that you don't look when a beautiful face passes by."

"There's a difference between looking and buying," Kylo retorted, "Beauty is common. The force is not. Without the force, a woman is nothing."

He paused then cast a glance at her out of the corner of his visor's field. "I desire a companion strong in the force."

"At least you desire a female companion," she held up the back of her hand to the corner of her mouth to whisper conspiringly, "I think Commander Rokens is gay."

Kylo stopped startled then burst out laughing. "You think what?"

"I'm serious. His thoughts kept repeating over and over… you know the whole time when he was talking with Fusolder. 'I have eyes for no one else.' That's okay, I'm not judging."

He laughed harder.

"I'm serious. It was like his mantra." She held up her hands, touching her middle fingers to her thumbs in meditation poise, saying chantingly, "'I will not think about the women. I will not think about the women.'" She dropped her hands. "Concerning Fusolder, I really don't blame him. I'm not sure what Fusolder looks like now, but back when I knew him, he was a pretty handsome guy."

She shook her head. "Oh, the poor Commander is going to have his heart broken. Fusolder is most definitely a straight shooter." She held out the length of her arm in a straight line zeroing her semi-blind eyes down it. "No, deviation from female preferences at all in that man."

Kylo coughed a few times from his loud guffaw, steadying himself long enough to ask, "You're telling me that you seriously believe that Commander Rokens is gay?"

"I'm not judging." She waved a dismissive hand, "He's a caring gay man."

"A caring gay man?" Kylo echoed flabbergasted. "You have all the force in the universe and that's what you garnished from his mind?"

He continued astounded at her summation, "Despite the fact that he has mentioned he prefers domineering women?"

"Hey," she held ups her hands, "I don't pry. If a person keeps forcing surface thoughts out, I hear them. Other than that, I don't stick my nose where it doesn't belong."

"That's what the force is for. To drag out of people's minds their deepest darkest secrets. But yet, you…" Kylo spun away from her, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You think Rokens is gay…? Priceless. Simply priceless!"

"Now, don't you dare tease him about it." She gave him that stern motherly look.

"No." The dark knight chortled, swallowing further laughter. "Most definitely not."

"I'm serious, Kylo," Apple became very concerned, "He's the general's second in command, and if that man found out, then…" She made a wide-eyed, puffy-cheeked worried face. "Not good."

He returned to his astonishment. "I can't believe you truly believe Rokens is gay? And I thought—" He cut himself off and shook his head, somewhat relieved.

"Well… the energy field around him runs a pink hue often. And tonight he seemed pretty preoccupied with my hair ribbons," she haphazardly made a grab for her hair, lifting up her braids for emphasis, smiling, "It's so cute how he just adores ribbons." Her smile wavered for a moment, in a deep yawn, "Or was that Armitage that was so preoccupied with my hair ribbons?"

Kyle's smirk froze at her reference of the general by his first name.

"I'm so tired that I really can't tell whom was beguiled by my hair ribbons, but whomever it was, was most surely gay."

"Why don't you…" he clenched his fists, "search their minds to find out?"

"No way." She told him then circled her finger as if pointing down at swirling toilet water. "You start digging around in people's minds and you come across all kinds of nasty stuff. I was raised in the imperial court… and there were some," eyes widened, "nasty stuff brewing in the minds there."

He watched her hunt down a place to sit, placing her rump in a metal chair then moved quickly out of it to find another spot.

"There was this Faleen Prince, what's his name?" Apple snapped her fingers a few times then pointed, "Xizor! That's it. Prince-Creeper-Xizor." She shuddered with a gah-huh sound as if shaking off cooties.

"Father hated him. Seriously hated him." She gave Kylo a direct look, chin down, "That guy… his thoughts?" She dragged out the word for emphasis with a shudder and a yawn, "Nassss-tyyy!"

She grabbed the nearest item, which was a synthetic mug and pointed it at him, "Xizor was another one of those creepers that hit on your mother. News of that little exploit with her made it through the entire court and back again. An imperial hitting on the rebel princess? Oh yeah, everyone definitely found about that one."

Lord Ren's expression went flat. "Except me."

"Well, that's probably because your mother didn't even notice him. He wasn't even human for Star's sake. And I saw her warrant-images: She was a beautiful woman," she gave him a knowing look with a slight smirk, "Very popular with the imperial guard. But Xizor?" She put the mug down with a shrug. "Not so popular."

Apple felt for another seat as she talked, "One, he wasn't human. That alone made him an outsider. And two, no one trusted him with their women. Father kept me far from him, and I am grateful for it, because there was all kinds of ickiness spewing freely out of that sick mind of his." She shuddered again and found a table, settling for it as a seat. "I'd hate to delve deeper into that Prince's garbage masher brain."

She looked at him very decidedly. "So, no. I don't pry deeper into people's thoughts."

"Then you haven't been flirting with him?" Kylo stepped towards her, energetically.

"With Xizor?" She made a disgusted face. "Ewe gross. Stars no"

"I meant General Hux," he said earnestly, "Because he appeared quite encouraged tonight."

She blinked almost stupefied by his reference, "Where'd that suddenly come from—" then flicked her fingers dismissively as she answered his question, "No." With a relieved grin, she waved her hand down, "I act like that with all my friends."

He grumbled, "Then you put on a pretty good show back there."

"What show?" Apple blinked baffled.

"The, 'oh, general, you're so big and strong and powerful,'" he mimicked in a fake feminine voice.

Technically, it was terrible attempt at mimicking a woman's gushing voice, because his mask sabotaged any chance of it coming across girly, but for a Knight of Ren, he made a considerable effort at it.

He stiffened flippantly, "That show." His voice ground through his clenched teeth, "That plathering, flirting show that drove me insane the entire night."

"That wasn't a show," Apple rerouted his definition, "that was purely imperial political etiquette." She arched a quizzical brow at him. "But why—"

"If you are not in love with him," he clarified for her, "then it was a show."

"Oh Kylo, you assume too much," She jostled her shoulders, apathetically. "Besides, it—the show you seem to be referring to—truthfully was just imperial court rules. As an imperial court woman," she placed a graceful hand on her chest, but ruined the poise with a yawn, "—I must at all times show deference to men of equitable or higher rank, especially during diplomatic negotiations. In this setting, where I don't have an inheritance and this is entirely his domain, he is of higher rank."

Realization dawned on the dark knight. He stated in awe, "You truly are an imperial."

"It is important that military men, especially ones of high rank" she spoke as if reciting a rule, "are to be praised for their prowess publicly by a feminine female, for it is her sworn duty to regal their triumphs before the Emperor. An imperial woman must at all times submit her will to the men over her, entreating them with praises and subtle hints so that they may serve their emperor better.'"

"And you believed that nonsense?"

"Of course," she blinked matter-of-factly, "every etiquette class taught the fundamentals of imperial courtier graces. I had them engrained into me."

"So you weren't flirting with him?" He clarified again.

"No," she said finally, "I was not."

"Then it was all pomp and court."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true," she informed him sincerely, "I really do feel that way about him—He is a military mastermind. A full-ranked General at such a young age? How could I not admire him greatly? And he's nice and cordial, although a bit tongue-tied. I rather like him. But that's that."

"What about me?" He asked, crossing the room to her in a few deliberate strides. He leaned over her placing both his hands on the table at her sides. "Do you admire me?"  
She smacked his arm, laughing. "Shut up. Now, you're just making fun of me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." An entertained smirk curl the corner of his mouth up then wavered soberly, "But were you just utilizing imperial etiquette with me?"

"No, I seriously adore you." She yawned, slipping off the table past him. "Besides… I'm your aunt," she told him in no uncertain terms,"You are always going to be the starlight of my eye regardless."

His smirk dropped in an instant. "And what if we weren't related? How would you feel about me then?"

"But we are related." She felt her way to the other side of the tiny room.

"What if we weren't?" He pressed his way after her. "What if we were just two strangers—two unrelated force users—that had no more genetics in common than any other random humans?"

"That's an odd question." Apple torqued her upper body to face him with a wry grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But I will entertain it." She touched her fingers to her lips in deep consternation. "Hmmmm…It depends."

He stood stock still. "On what?"

"How much money do you possess?"After a beat, she burst out laughing.

Shaking his head, he snickered, cursing an amused expletive under his breath then asked, "Why do you do that to me?"

"Do what?" She twitched one eyebrow up and then the other one interchangeably, teasing.

"Nothing," he said after a moment, shaking his head of it, "Nothing at all."

A quizzical expression crossed her face for a fleeting moment then disappeared into a smile. "Oh I do so adore you."

Sadness glistened in her eyes. "I don't know what I would do without you," she said, then quickly busied herself feeling a stiff-looking lamp with an acrylic dome top. A frown fluttered onto her face. "What's this thing? A Mandalorian electro-club?" She held up the lamp, her touch turning it on.

Kylo raised his eyebrows, griping. "An ugly and pathetic excuse for a lamp."

"I'd fire the interior decorator." She made a face and put the thing down.

"I could kill him for you," he offered then groused out the side of his mouth, too bad his helmet amplified his words, "along with the general that hired him."

"Oh you are just a frigate of jokes tonight, aren't you?" She teased then speaking through a yawn, "Now point me in the direction of the bed."

His face flushed behind his helmet. "That is not a bed."

"It has a blanket and a pillow, right?" She fumbled around the air before her, heading in the opposite direction of the bed.

He waved his hand across, telekinetically moving a stand out of the way of her feet. Then shifted his eyes to the ill-favored-looking cot, "Theoretically."

"Then it's a bed."

He howled frustrated, "How is it that you can be so difficult?!"

"First, I am too nice," she turned an adorable but tired smile on him, "now, I am so difficult? How do I ever manage?"

"That's because _you_ ," he stressed, venting his frustration, "a quagmire of annoying habits."

He bounded after her, catching her waist before she hit the metal corner of a bland side table. For a lingering moment, he was quite aware of how small her waist was compared to his hands.

"Oh, you're just jealous," she teased, yet her expression was grateful.

He flinched, releasing her waist as if it burned him. "I am not jealous of that wretched excuse for a general!" He jabbed his index finger at her. "I don't care if he has designs on you! He has no real power—The forceless weak and pathetic scum!"

Her expression went blank. "Whaaat?" She blinked a few times. "Kylo, I meant me. I meant you're jealous of me and my," she flipped her blond curls back over her shoulder vainly, "ever changing and delightsome habits." then gave him an arched eyed look, "Who said anything about Armitage?"

"You!" Kylo went to point at her again, but instead gave up and removed his helmet with a mechanical hiss to place it on the stand next to him. "You… exhaust me."

Suddenly bleary, he rubbed the back of his neck and dropped into a seat… rather it was a metal chair without so much as a scrap of fabric. "And these quarters are pathetic. Beneath you."

"They're alright," she said softly.

He blinked at her—or rather at the brighter artificial lights—then snorted, shaking his head. "Try again, Apple. Try again. Why can't you complain for once?"

"I do too complain," She pouted in a tiny voice.

"Then complain about these _pfassking_ quarters."

She frowned. "But I can't see them."

"Then complain about not being able to see." He telekinetically moved a chair out her way as she headed towards him.

"I have complained about that," she pouted determined.

He released a long winded exasperated sound. "Barely."

"Kylo, I do complain." She sighed. "But not about this—I am not that petty. I've heard the crew's thoughts: The First Order suffered severe losses in a recent battle, including the destruction of a home base. Not to mention, this ship is now housing the Hapes men. I'm not going to sit here and fuss about the things that they do try for me. It's only been one day. I can handle lesser quarters for one night."

"It's been over a few weeks since the Starkiller base was destroyed." He raked his gloved hands back through his dark curls. "They had time to prepare something worthy of your rank."

"Yes, they immediately thought to themselves," she began then said in a terrible excuse for a male mock voice, "'By the Emperor's black heart, forget about rebuilding our military strength after we lost everything, let's make the ice-block princess a pretty room.'"

Kylo sniggered. "What was that again?"

"Nope." Apple turned up her nose playfully indignant, "If you missed it the first time, you're out of luck."

He stared at her for a moment then laughed."I thought you were supposed to be spoilt."

"I am."

"But not rotten." A twinkle entered his blue eyes.

"Oh, ye of little faith," she ventured back towards the cot, holding out her hands for inanimate synthetic objects that could be blocking her way, "I can be as rotten as they come."

He observed her testily stumbling about with an entertained smile, "Not hardly. Today, I witnessed the supreme opposite of rotten."

Unaware, she padded forward.

"Watch out for the—" He tried to warn her and grimaced when she sent her shin right into the metal edge of the coffee table.

"Oww…" She hopped to rub it. "I really can't see anything in here. I can feel that there are things around me, but I can't see a single thing." With widened eyes, she shot up enthusiastically. "Hah! See. I just complained."

He planted sweaty forehead into his palm with a groan and shook his head. "You're going to have to try harder than that."

"I thought you said," she quoted him, "do or do not there is no try."

He stiffened. His tone turned dangerous, "I never said that."

"But you did… earlier…" she replied, letting her tiny voice drift off as his agitation rose. She let out a long sigh and looked away.

Her bottom lip started trembling as her blind eyes misted over. "Oh, Kylo, I do miss my father," she changed the subject sadly, "I miss him terribly." And for the first time—perhaps it was because she was exhausted or perhaps it was because she finally had a chance to mourn—Kylo witnessed her sob. Large tears tumbled down over her eyelashes and down her heart-shaped face.

She crumpled to the floor and cried. "I miss him, oh how I miss him!"

He caught her wrist, pulling her into his chest to wrap her in his arms. She sobbed against his chest. For a long moment there, he felt the temptation to never release her. A good part of him craved to comfort her, to make her feel safe.

"Apple," he entangled his gloved fingers in her hair as he cradled her head, "I will revenge Darth Vader's death," he promised against her platinum curls, "all those that caused his death shall suffer greatly." He rested the lower half of his face against the top of her head. "You will never have to fear again—all our enemies will die by my hands. And our family with rule the universe together."

He kissed her crown, thoughts reflecting upon how close it was that their ship could have missed hers, and how close he came to dying out in that frozen forest or dying in the infirmary without her. Fatigued, his thoughts poured out of him as he held her, the last living reminder of Darth Vader's triumph. And randomly, his thoughts took a darker course, zeroing in on how General Hux looked at her and watched her. A malignant line threatened his mouth.

She curled into his chest, gripping his uniform in her small hands. She sobbed a little more before whispering, "Kylo?"

Shaking his rage from him, he lifted his head to look down at her. "What?" His tone grumbled, but there was no venom behind it. None whatsoever.

Apple tilted her tear-stained pretty face up to him, brow furrowed, "Do you honestly think Armitage likes me?"

Kylo retracted away from her in an instant, features darkened. "Armitage? You are so suddenly familiar with him." His tone turned icy, "Why should you care what that worthless general does?"

"I don't know," she glanced down at her fingers as they tugged at a waist length lock of her hair, "He is a military leader. If I were to marry him, we could secure our family's—"

"I forbid it!" Kylo roared. "Never again is a family member of mine going to marry a forceless fool! Never!" Items around the room lifted under his telekinetic outburst. "And waste your power! And waste your bloodlines?!"

Apple just groaned, throwing her head back. "Fine. I won't marry a non-force user." She pouted, half-irritated and half-decidedly impressed. "Kylo, sometimes, I think you are way too much like father."

Ready to rant again, he stopped unable to argue with that response. He spun away from her as the stands and chairs clattered to the ground. "You say that…" He breathed haggardly, haphazardly attempting to calm himself, "like it's a bad thing."

"Nope," she said then hugged his waist like a petulant child. "it's not bad, just…" she smiled leaning her cheek against his back, "annoying."

He shot his eyes back at her but didn't turn around, feeling slightly guilty at his rage for the first time in a decade. "I can't believe you would even consider marrying that dirt general."

Apple yawned. "I'm sixteen. Contemplating the happily ever after is given," she yawned more pronouncedly, "if I was thirteen, I might've even had some girlish fantasy about marrying you."

He stiffened, turning his face away from her. He could feel his neck grow hot. Tugging at his neck line, he grumbled awkwardly, "These quarters really are pathetic."

She yawned again, speaking through it lazily, "I'll just have to take your word for it."

 *****A couple more pieces to this chapter set are on their way. Please send in reviews and comments: I love to receive them and hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading.******


	33. Chapter 33

*****Happy Veterans' Day!*******

"There seems to be a breech in security, sir!" A taut masculine voice announced.

General Hux snapped his head toward the sound. Exhausted mind whirling, he blinked his dry eyes a few times, hoping he hadn't heard correctly. It was nearly 0400: he desperately hoped hadn't heard correctly

But from of the look of the ashen-faced Data Security Officer standing just inside his office, he already knew the answer.

"Excuse me, Junior Lieutenant," his lips pierced into an icy white line, "Repeat that again."

Officer Delq tremulously straightened himself to a centimeter taller and confirmed his superior's alarm, "There is a breech in security, General," his voice tightened almost into a squeak, "Sir!"

"How large of a security breech?" Hux enunciated carefully, thoughts racing to plan his next course of action, "And where?"

"We're still investigating, but it appears to be entirely a hacking ploy," Delq explained then withered under his commanding officer's deadly glare, blurting quickly, "But it's been contained!"

Hux closed his red, weary eyes for a moment of relief. Too much had already been lost to security breeches. And at that point, he was too worn down. Much too worn down. Fatigue gnawed at him.

"Those filthy Hapes pirates!" Logistics Specialist Hefor'de spat from the other side of the command unit, snapping Hux back awake.

The tired general flicked his eyes to him, irritated at the interruption. But he allowed it. The man was loyal and the newly combined command staff had a fantastic way of generating ideas when they blustered about, ranting.

The central control circuit's hologram folded around Hefor'de when he jerked forward into the image. "Most apparent that this," he hissed the word, baring his teeth, "was what they wanted from the start!"

The hissing pause allowed the artificial array of stars to cast a red glow on the man's teeth and a blue shadow up into his expansive nostrils. A sight Hux would have preferred not to see.

Dead tired and pickled, the young general tried not to stare in disgusted awe at the amount of dried nasal mucous Hefor'de had hanging off his nose hairs.

Hux shook his head of it and waited for the rebuttal that usually came.

"Before we jump to conclusions, Lieutenant," Commander Rokens said, not as capable of hiding his revulsion back as his superior.

With grossed shudder, Rokens hurriedly swirled his fingers on the launch table's controls to dissipate the hologram in a sparkle of light particles. "We must consider where the breech is coming from."

Lieutenant Commander Ru voiced his agreement, "We could have an internal spy." He shifted his pale eyes to the rest of the command staff, "The current crew is a conglomerate of three ships—A resistance member could've easily snuck aboard during the exchanges."

The men stiffened then shared knowing looks.

"And erupt a security breech while the Hapes so happen to be aboard?" The Logistics Specialist replied. He twitched his eyebrow agitatedly. "With all due respect, sir, but that is quite the coincidence."

"Or quite the cover," Rokens countered, swarthy features depicting not even the slightest hint of the frustration his subordinates felt. He leaned towards Hefor'de and not so subtly whispered, "You've got several space bats in your cave, Lieutenant."

"What?" The man asked in a startled gurgle.

Rokens rubbed his nose, even less subtly. "Right here. That's right, get that big one on the left—It's hanging out," he gagged one realizing gack, "and apparently dried to your upper lip."

Embarrassed, Hefor'de covered his own nose, rubbing it furiously.

"Increase the security around our… guests' quarters for the time being." Hux rolled his aching eyes then continued to question Officer Delq with an eery calmness that made a few of the other command staff twitch, "Visible or Data breech, Junior Lieutenant?"

"Largely data, sir." The officer explained, shifting his eyes every few seconds to Hefor'de's nasal digging, "No report of visual attacks has been made at this time. It appears they are seeking some jumbled piece of information."

"From an internal or external location?" Internal Security Liaison Lieutenant Mato asked earnestly.

A big beefy dark skinned man, Mato worked in close conglomeration with Captain Phasma to maintain the ship's security. If the source was on the Star Destroyer, he'd be the one organizing any response effort past the standing protocols. A tough soldier. The chunk missing out of his right ear was clear evidence that he preferred a hands on approach to dealing with internal threats—unlike the ship's demoted predecessor that preferred hiding behind a desk.

The Junior Lieutenant shifted his weight nervously under the bigger man's dark gaze, "Unknown sir. Our firewalls are still holding though, but we haven't had time to locate the source. One of the Data Technicians just notified us of the—"

Lieutenant Commander Ru's snapped open, features suddenly turning paler than normal, whispering something unintelligible under his breath.

"Data Technicians?" Hux repeated from the absurdity of it. The DT crew were hardly the type to perform hacker security diagnostics, much less anything else.

"Tech support, sir." Delq explained, mistaking his superior's surprise for ignorance about the nature of the DT's job. The man blinked rapidly astonished by the information himself, "They typically just handle the crew's tech calls, but—"

"I know that!" Hux snapped. "I meant how did the technician discover the breech and then contain it, when they hardly have the… skill level." He quickly filled in the words, 'skill level' rather than say outloud, what they all were thinking, which was 'intellectual scores.'

Everything in the First Order centered on score results: intellectual scores, combat scores, physical aggression scores, psychological scores, leadership scores, visual-spatial reasoning scores, genetics scores, etc.… Basically if it could be tested, it had a score. It had a numerical, quantifiable result. And if it had a score? Then it would dictate the individual's placement in the strict hierarchal system… And far as officers went, the DT crew typically had the lowest intellectual results overall. Granted they didn't have scores low enough to end up on sanitation detail or in infantry, but they were not typically seen as cerebral enough to discover and thwart a breech faster than the higher scoring DSOs.

"True, sir," Delq took a diplomatic approach. "But this one is different. He's from the original _Incursion_ staff, from their internal tech support. I don't have a name yet, just a designation number X2-4N-8."

Both Hefor'de and Ru froze at that. One with a look of horror and the other with a look of hate.

Not noticing their uncomfortable expressions, Delq continued, "He must have been somehow overlooked. Because being assigned to that detail is a waste of pure talent." He shook his head in awe, "We are still trying to figure out how he noticed the breech before it even registered with us—"

"Are you sure, he didn't create the security breech himself and is just covering his tracks?" Hefor'de snapped.

"Lieutenant," Ru countered, eyes turning dangerous, "don't make assumptions that you haven't the evidence for."

"Perhaps, this time we will have the evidence," Hefor'de lifted his chin.

Rokens made a face and whispered, pointing, "Lieutenant, you still have a hanger."

The Logistics Specialist swiftly covered his nose and backed down.

Delq shifted his eyes back and forth between his superiors. He was part of the transplanted _Finalizer_ crew, and his dealings with the two brooding men were limited.

"With all due respect sirs," he ventured hesitantly like a man about to step his boot into a room full of vipers, "the DT officer has single-handedly contained the threat for now…" He exhaled the air from his puffed cheeks in a whistle and turned to the general. "…in a most impressive manner, sir… To say the least. Permission after all this is over to ask that the man be transferred to my team?"

"Permission granted, Lieutenant," Hux nodded.

Herfor'de gasped a strangled sound. "But sir—!"

The general lifted a frustrated hand to shut him up. "Do you want to die?" His patience was wearing thin at 0400 hours. Not… in… the… mood.

The man clamped his trap shut.

Hux ordered the DSO lead, "I want continual updates, Junior Lieutenant. Leave nothing out. And if an internal source is located," he flicked his eyes to the two chief stormtroopers standing by, "I want security detail sent in to establish a perimeter without alerting the perpetrator."

"Yes, sir!" All three men snapped to attention.

Hux perfunctorily straightened his uniform, "And bring that officer here. I want to personally promote him."

Herfor'de now wobbled on his feet in consternation, stumbling back into a seat to sit down.

Ru laughed nervously. "Sir, perhaps you should send the man a bonus credit instead." He tapped his fingers rapidly on the control table's edge, skittish. "Maybe a pay raise from afar." With a forced grin, he swung his fist upward across his body in a falsely animated gesture, "A memo kudos from his esteemed general."

Hux regarded him with the same look he would have given if he had dunked his head in Hut sweat. "A memo kudos?" He twisted his torso to face Rokens, "This is what happens when you assign me men that don't drink. Don't do it again."

Ru backpedaled. "I meant no disrespect, sir."

A sardonic snicker erupted from Herfor'de's chair. "Come now Lieutenant Commander," his voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood, smiling darkly, "the general wants to see the man whom singlehandedly stopped a breach in security. Don't insult his sense of First Order pride. General Hux really should," he leaned forward with a maniacal gleam in his eye, "meet that officer, especially if he wants to promote him. It's a proper curtesy."

Dark daggers met pale ones.

The DSO touched his earpiece and whipped out his data pad. "Update coming in, General sir. We have a source location."

"Where?" Hux asked the young gangly lieutenant, removing his eyes from the other men's staring match.

His dark skin blanched. "Aboard the ship."

Hux sent a formidable glance at Lieutenant Mato, "Initiate lockdown."

"Done as if yesterday, sir," The broad-shouldered man nodded sharply, and sprung into action. He began barking commands to into his own commlink, "Initate full lockdown. Coordinate security measures Alpha-six-Nebula-seven." He glanced back up at the DSO, "Exact location, Junior Lieutenant?"

"Sector 5 of the command quarters, sir," the DSO read from his data pad. He trembled slightly with apprehension and shifted his hazel eyes from Mato to the general's face, "It's in suite…" his voice trembled haltingly, "555-A-61."

"Wasn't that supposed to be the princess's quarters," Ru gasped horrified. There was hardly an officer aboard the ship that hadn't known what quarters the General had bellyached over perfecting. It was a ship-wide effort to specifically and painstakingly modify the Captain's old quarters to suit the imperial princess.

Hux snatched the data pad from the younger man's hand. "Let me see that." The color drained from his own features.

"Where is the princess now?" He asked, then thundered loudly, "where is she?!" He shouted over his shoulder to no one in particular, spinning to throw the data pad across the room.

It crashed into the metal wall to erupt in a flash of sparks. "Where is she?!" Hux pounded his fist on the control table. "I want to know this instant where the princess is!"

Men scrambled into action.

"She's on Deck…" Ru rapidly moved his fingers across the holographic imager, then glanced up at the other's half questioning himself, "Eight?" He checked the hologram again stunned, "Her biomarker is most definitively on Deck Eight."

"The enlisted barracks?" Rokens stepped quickly to his side.

Relief relaxed the general's shoulders visibly. "Thank the Emperor's black heart."

"Please say you didn't assume the princess was capable of—" Rokens began.

"No," Hux snarled, "I feared she had been taken hostage." His voice turned to an asphyxiated whisper, "Or worse."

He took an intake of breath settling his stomach. For the first time, he had experienced fear for someone else and he didn't… Hux steadied his emotions under his military mindset…appreciate the sensation. "I want her brought here—Where I can see her. Where I know she is safe." He tipped his head to glare behind him. "Go now!"

Soldiers hustled out the door.

His dry red eyes blinked, eyelids dragging as if closing over sand. Mind wandering under the pressure of lack of sleep, he mumbled. "By the Stars, what is she doing on Deck Eight? At this hour?"

"Unknown, sir," Ru flitted his fingers through the holograms, opening and closing image boxes. "But she's apparently with… Lord Ren, sir." He looked up at his superior, appearing just as tired and just as relieved. "She's with Lord Ren."

The Lieutenant Commander flicked his left fingers outward and the image enlarged to a screen sized square before them. The dark knight and princess ventured into an enlisted level quarters.

"What are they doing?" General Hux leaned towards the screen, suddenly feeling his heart clench in his chest.

"Well apparently, he is tearing up the room, sir," Rokens commented blandly once the lightsaber started swinging. "And she is… braiding her hair, sir." He leaned closer, "And it's a very fine braid too. Ahh, look she's using a pretty pink ribbon to wrap it."

Hux waved his hand in rapid dismissal of the hologram before him, thoughts finally able to return to the more pressing matter, "Then who is in the princess's quarters?"

"Seemingly there has been sort of a mix up, sir," the awkward lieutenant typed in a sequence, "the princess was assigned that…" he tapped at the shredded remnant of a room Kylo Ren left, "barracks quarters. And…"

Hux's face reddened to his auburn roots.

Rokens picked a large ball of wax from his ear with his pinky. "I have to say that this day has been, not your most profitable with the princess, sir."

"Not another word Commander," Hux growled through clenched teeth.

"…the princess's quarters were assigned to…" Delq squinted his eyes at the image, "Bubba the Blaster Boy?"

He flit his attention to Ru, "Lock off the area around 555-A-61, but be careful not to alarm the spy. Open the containment a little and let him play: I want to know exactly what he is trying to access."

The Lieutenant Commander replied the affirmative then turned his upper body to the side to execute the order into his communicator.

Rokens examined the brandy-colored wax ball. "Should I call in Officer Ru to handle the hacker, sir?"

The young general was just too deprived of sleep to deal with stupidity. Hux shifted his eyes coldly to Rokens, "He's right here, Commander."

He held open his hand to a rather paler than usual Ru, whom nervously paused in giving orders to twitch an even more fidgety expression at them. "Officer Ru is standing right there."

"Yes, that is Lieutenant Commander Key'ler Ru, sir," Rokens tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, "but his twin brother, Ensign Aster Ru, is the Data Technician that contained the situation," he blinked at him as if surprised his superior hadn't known, "You know, Officer X2-4N-8."

"Who would have known that?" Hux sneered.

Rokens, Herfor'de, and Ru lifted their hands.

Hux snapped at the two Incursion officers. "Of course you two would know, but you," he turned to Rokens, "Impossible."

"I make it a point to memorize all the men aboard our ships." Rokens checked his cuticles, deciding to pick at a piece of dry skin. "Every single wonderful one of them."

Hux just stared at him.

The Commander replied unrepentantly, "I have my hobbies, sir, you have yours."

"Ensign Aster Ru is my twin brother, sir," the Lieutenant Commander admitted with a sigh. His shoulders drooped, "My fraternal twin brother."

"Twin?" Hux was definitely too exhausted for all this. His attention swung slowly to Ru, "I thought you were an only child."

"I'd like to think that I am an only child," Ru muttered under his breath.

"Ensign Ru is a computer genius," Rokens grinned a toothy knowing grin. "While the Lieutenant Commander works the day shift, he works the nightshift. Very favored among the lower ranks—Some of the crew even nicknamed him Mainframe because he's better to have around than even a service driod."

"Then why is he a Data Technician?" Hux's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.

"Insubordination," Rokens said without a filter, "The old Captain wasn't fond of insubordinate officers and kept demoting him."

Hux straightened himself, tugging at his uniform perfunctorily. "I don't care if he is a cross-dressing Wookie as long as he can get the job done, bring him in."

A nervous twitch froze on Ru's face that shook his left eyebrow a few times.

Hefor'de sinisterly grinned at his platinum haired superior, folding his arms across his chest. "This is going to be very interesting."

 *****More is shortly to come. Please keep writing in your comments and questions. I appreciate your reviews too! Thank you for reading.*****


	34. Chapter 34

It wasn't long before an uncomfortable light-colored Ru was standing beside a brazen-eyed dark-colored Ru brother. Features wise, they were identical. But where the Lieutenant Commander was platinum haired and pale-skinned, his twin was dark-haired and olive skinned… and held a wickedly twisted smirk.

"Ensign Ru," Hefor'de addressed him as coldly as brandishing sharp steel.

"Lieutenant Hefor'de," Ru's brother replied rather loftily for a subordinate, then flashed the other man a taunting grin, "How's your sister?"

The Lieutenant lunged at him, but Rokens held him back. He growled under his breath, "If the Lieutenant Commander wasn't your brother, I'd kill you where you stand."

"Quit using my brother as an excuse, Mandred," Ensign Ru snarked rather recalcitrant, blatantly and unrepentantly violating military culture in using his superior's given name, "You know stars well that I beat all of your sorry Combat scores by 33.2%."

Hefor'de's face inflamed.

"And your strategy scores by 26%."

The Lieutenant's face flushed even further.

"And your intellect scores by… wait, what was it again? Oh I remember." His jostling expression darkened. "By 48.4%."

Hux shot a look at Rokens whom just shrugged.

But the Ensign wasn't finished with his sarcasm. "And by the way, thanks for the lavoratory cleaning gig, it was glorious." His flippant grin widened, "I paid two warrant officers to do it for me while I commlink'ed your sister." Twitched his eyebrows, "Best… shift… ever."

Hefor'de lunged at him again. This time two command staff members had to hold him back.

Ensign Ru's communicator beeped. "Hold on a moment," he said flippantly and held up a contumacious index finger, then touched his earpiece, speaking suddenly business-like, "Hello, DT Ensign Ru X2-4N-8 speaking, how may I help you?"

He listened pacing, despite a growling and snarling Hefor'de struggling against Rokens and Wato. "Uh huh…Uh huh."

He frowned at the communicator as Hefor'de grasped claws in the air at the back of his neck. He spoke in a scripted and frustratedly-bored drone, "Have you turned the computer on?"

A slight more irritated pause. "It's the little flashing button on the side. No. Not the Off button…The," he talked down to his caller dragging out the word, "Ooonnn button."

"Ensign!" His twin brother snapped at him.

Mainframe covered his communicator and gave him a dull look. "I'm sorry, brother, did you say something?" His sarcasm kept no boundaries, "I'm trying to do my job—the job, I," he emphasized, "have been assigned. We don't want another evaluation stating that I don't do my job, now do we?"

His brother's face contorted into an exasperated grimace.

Frustrated, Hux snatched the communicator from the Ensign to throw it. "You have been assigned a new job, Junior Lieutenant," he stressed the promotion, "Now track the spy's wanderings through our systems."

"Already finished, sir," Mainframe shouldered his brother aside to open another image on the hologram, "The breech was in the logistics demagogues." He tossed him a data jack, "Currently the hacker is stonewalled into an open network of space fodder."

"Open?" Ru gasped.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch," Mainframe sneered, "I blocked the hacker from transmitting information out of our system. Instead any leaked information recirculates into a dummy loop and is catalogued for data purposes." He flicked his hand a few times, "Go ahead, see for yourself."

Ru stared at him a moment, then shot a wary sideways glance at the general before plugging in the jack pod. His muscles tensed as if bracing for something.

A sophisticated array of computer jargon poured out into the air before them.

Mainframe breathed a big smile. "Gentlemen, meet my Hacker Slacker."

"Your what?" Hux was astounded. His eyes flitted across the subsets of patterns. Even he was having trouble taking it all in. Impressive.

"It's a jailhouse for our data thief. The almighty fool 'em, trap 'em, harass 'em, program package, designed to track and monitor the hacker's searching process while keeping all attacks at bay," the newly promoted Junior Lieutenant stared at his creation with adoration. "Our lovely hacker is not going anywhere for a very long time without even knowing it."

He cooed at the hologram, pointing at a violet swirl of characters in front of his brother's left eye, "And right there is the sweetest, bitty virus destroyer, just in case our spy wants to play astro ball."

The hologram's multi-colored lights reflected on his features as he turned to face Hux, "Created this entire baby tonight, General." His smile widened, "Specifically for our little friend."

"Remarkable," Rokens oogled the characters flowing in a wave across the image. "Your scores were impressive, but I had never imagined this."

"Tonight? What do you mean created this tonight?" Ru asked his brother irritatedly, "When did you have the time? You had strict assignments."

"Really brother, you insult me by thinking rerouting diagnostic anomalies would keep me busy all night," Mainframe sighed then added, "Finished them in the first half-hour of my shift."

Herfor'de almost choked on his own tongue, "Those anomalies have been giving my crew problems for months!"

"Well they're stupid," Ensign Ru said simply, "I'm not."

Rokens smiled, opening his gloved hand. "He does have a point."

The Logistics Specialist glowered.

The insubordinate twin decided to drive in the electro-screw in even more with a quirky grin, "I had enough time to stream a couple movies, chat with some hot chicks, set up a prank on Herfor'de here—"

"What?" The man nearly fell off the table he was leaning on. "If I found out, you even messed with my figurines, I will have you shot out an airlock."

The other men stared at him. He curled up his shoulders sheepishly and stepped back away.

Mainframe continued without hesitation talking to his brother. "I created this sweetheart after I pelted you with poultry, during that epic crazy-hot girl smackdown. "

"I knew that had to be you," Ru jabbed his finger at him.

"Pelted you right there," Mainframe poked his brother in the forehead between his eyes.

"Don't touch me."

He poked Ru again. "I'm not touching you. I'm poking you."

"Stop touching me!"

"I'm not touching you." The twins heightened each other's irritating tones.

"Shut up!" Hux shouted then massaged his temples. The man's unruly behavior was astounding—like dealing with a more annoying and childish version of Lord Ren.

When he had their attention, he steadied himself, before saying, "Have you discovered what he is tracking?"

"He?" Mainframe's black eyebrows shot to the roof. "Hasn't anyone obtained a visual of our Hacker lately?"

"There are no cameras in the princess's quarters," Hux sneered uncomfortably.

"Not even the main monitor's camera?" The computer geek really set his eyebrows towards his hairline.

"Removed," Rokens filled in with a grin, "General Hux wanted the princess to have absolute privacy."

Giving them all a look that questioned their intellect, Mainframe typed a few codes in the system to open a viewing holographic window of the spy's perspective. "Well, the hacker should've used a droid, her movements are too slow and haphazard to

"Her?" Hux leaned over the man's shoulder.

"Either that," Mainframe flashed him a sick grin, "Or this is a man that has some serious explaining to do." His grin widened. "Looks like there is a bra sale on Solis 4: Buy one get one free, sir."

"So that's what a bra is?" An audio-filtered voice popped up from one of the stormtroopers huddling closer to look at the screen.

The officers slowly turned around to stare at them.

The two stormtroopers hurriedly scampered back to attention.

Mainframe's eye twitched then he turned back to the computer. "Sometimes, I think those men came from test tubes."

"Most of them did," Rokens coughed into his fist.

Mainframe looked at him funnily, continuing, "Well… none of your security detail noticed they were being played by a couple of hot chicks."

"The Hapes harpies," Hux hissed.

"The whole fight in engineering," Mainframe supplied, "Completely fake. I've seen girls fight before and that was all an act. And the tear gas, guys?" He made a face at them, "Come on, a little much."

"Where have our feminine guests progressed to, lieutenant?" Hux asked through ground teeth more than irritated at the breech.

"Well… now sir, it looks like she's found a 50%-off coupon for feminine pads."

"Feminine pads?" Hux repeated the absurdity.

"Apparently," the dark twin took a dark delight in his superior's distaste. With a sly grin, he read aloud, "these ones are absorbent enough for the Wookie female on the go. Look, the ad even uses real blood."

Making a disturbed face, Hux shot back away from the computer screen. "For the love of the Empire! Our system was hacked so some little girls could buy bras and feminine hygiene products?"

—-

Meanwhile….

Blaze elbowed her red-headed sister away from the console. "What's wrong with you? Get away!"

"It's a sale!" She squealed and jumped up and down, nearly taking out her sister's eye with her chest. "Look! Look!" she pointed. "Bikinis! Come on, let me buy a couple bikinis! Look at the polka dotted one with ribbons and a thong!"

Blaze elbowed her harder, pushing her successfully away this time. "Roan tell her to get out of here!"

"River!" Their first sister snapped, "We have a mission. Move. Now."

Their youngest sister pouted. "Fine, but you better order me that bikini."

—

Back in the command office…

The men leaned their heads to the side at the pictures of bikini models.

Hefor'de distractedly raised his hand. "General sir, I volunteer to interrogate the spy once she's captured."

Mainframe turned a tawdry twitch of his eyebrows at him. "And if the suspect is a man?" He smirked, "I could be wrong. There are no cameras in the princess's quarters."

Hefor'de's snapped, icy. "And this is exactly why you never advance in rank."

"I did today, Mandred," Mainframe all but offered the higher-ranking officer an obscene gesture with his smirk.

Hux shot Ru a sharp look.

The man;s pale twin shrugged, overtly very apologetic. "He's a little… different."

"Shopping spree is over, general," Mainframe focused on moving the system coordinates to open the tracker for a full scale exploration. "Apparently, they're accessing personnel files." He moved his fingers across the controls quickly, "But I'm feeding them false information." He typed. "Lieutenant Herfor'de had a sex change two years ago."

He nearly was strangled for that one.

"Our friends are now attempting to access ship design parameters," He typed in response, hitting a touch screen cue with a flourish. "Now, they know how to make non-existent ships that will explode upon hyper-jump. I even added a recipe for Mandorian bread."

"What I want to know," Hux grit his teeth at his command staff, "was how the spy acquired access in the first place."

Mainframe answered, eyes still on the image before him, "Using one of the support staff's security codes." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the Logistic's Specialist, "One of his guys."

"Which one," Hefor'de's growled maddeningly, adding through aggravated clenched teeth, "Junior Lieutenant?"

Mainframe flashed the Lieutenant an obscene gesture. "Bite me. I'm not playing your blame game just so you can have the poor sucker thrown out an airlock or fed to some beast like Captain Phasma."

"Give me a name," Herfor'de clenched everything this round: his teeth, his fists, probably his gluteal cheeks.

"One name is not the problem here," Mainframe countered, "The entire system is broken and vulnerable. I've been tracking system flaws for months—And while you have been sitting with your thumb up your afterburner, I've been trying to fix those glitches."

"How dare you!" Herfor'de spat, "The First Order is flawless!"

"Everything that has bytes," Mainframe countered, not apparently concerned about openly taking on a superior officer, "has bugs. And if you and the Captain had been listening to me in the beginning, the Resistance wouldn't have been able to break into the StarKiller. The signs were already there. I laid the vulnerabilities out for you in holographic lights. If you'd just listened then several thousand men would still be alive!"

A dangerous coldness erupted in the room as Hux slowly rotated to the Logistics officer. His eyes flashed with death. "He offered solutions that could have prevented the StarKiller's destruction and you ignored them?"

The Lieutenant blanched, wilting before him. He stumbled back away as the general stalked towards him.

"The data sets he provided… were irrational," he stammered.

"You just couldn't grasp them," Mainframe folded his arms over his chest, "and it killed you that I even began to categorize hazard vulnerabilities."

"The Captain forbade you from digging further," Herfor'de's eyes widened desperately, "And you still kept sticking your nose in where it didn't belong. You were insubordinate, late, always bending the rules, always pranking. He knew know would listen to you." He bit back, "If it wasn't for your brother, the Captain would have had you executed long ago for poking your nose into secret files and washed away your evidence."

Ru glanced at his brother, shocked, "You were digging into First Order secret files? How come I didn't know about it?"

"I had noticed the discrepancies during a few early engagements with the Resistance," his brother confessed, "They staged systemic attacks different from the simulated enemies we were trained to combat. They focused on minor assaults with weakness stratification. It was a matter of time before they attacked something on a larger scale and the StarKiller was the most likely next target based on the timing of sequential events. So I ran a series of diagnostic algorithms and a found glaring aberrancies. That and the Resistance patterns, indicated that the StarKiller was going to be the next imminent target."

He looked down at his unsigned boots. "And when I brought them to this joker, he tried to shut my investigations down. And so did the Captain."

He continued, suddenly somber as he focused finally on his twin, "I was going to go to you, but I was stripped of rank, and put on night shift with a threat that if I even mentioned my findings, they'd shoot me just to make me watch you die." He looked his brother in the eye, "Even then, I knew what you'd choose if it came down to the decision between saving our men's lives and your own. So I attempted to leak the information to the Finalizer, but it arrived too late. The attack had already begun—It was too late."

"So that's what happened?" Ru nearly stumbled backwards a step.

Hux snatched a gun from a nearby stormtrooper's utility belt to point it at Herfor'de's forehead. "Your narrow-minded blunders cost the First Order substantially."

"Please, General sir," Herfor'de waved his hands, eyes bulging, "The results were unfounded. No one knows that his data was even accurate or predicted the real outcome! I was only doing what I thought was best for the First Order!"

Mainframe chided, "Sorry, but my theories proved to be exactly correct."

The pistol cocking mechanism clicked. "Goodbye Herfor'de," Hux said, eyes narrowing murderously, finger on the trigger. An intense hatred filled him. The whole thing could have been prevented.

"You could always kill him," Mainframe spoke quickly, "But then who would clean up the mess."

"I don't care," Hux pushed the nozzle of the gun against the specialist's skin. "Even my own father blamed me for the StarKiller base's destruction. But it wasn't my fault, was it Herfor'de?" His tone became maniacally pleasant then darkened into a low growl, "It was your fault. I knew the Captain had been involved in a cover up, but your involvement went even further, didn't it?"

"I…I was just doing my duty!" The man trembled bawling.

"Everything could have been prevented!" Hux roared, squishing the laser pistol's tip against the man's cheek distorting the contour. "The StarKiller's loss could have been prevented!"

"Theoretically," Mainframe interjected.

Stopping in his tirade, Hux shifted his blue eyes to him.

"The defected stormtrooper though," the dark Ru shrugged, "No one could have predicted that. So technically, it was all that man's fault."

Satisfied, Hux removed the gun from Herfor'de's face. "True." He glared as the Logistics Specialist crumpled to ground, crying. "I will deal with you later." He handed the pistol back to the trooper, "Take him away."

"Now," Hux turned pensively back to the holograms as two soldiers hauled Herfor'de out. "Where were we?"

"Wait," Mato chimed in, still stuck on the previous discussion, "I'm confused: how does shooting Mainframe here make him have to watch his brother die?"

A lopsided weary smile crossed Mainframe's face and he slammed the back of his hand down on the table.

"Owww!" His twin hissed, clutching his own hand. "What did you do that for?" Mainframe snatched his brother's hand, yanking off his glove. Erythema spread on the dorsal aspect of Ru's knuckles.

Mainframe slapped his own cheek hard.

Ru's face jerked to the side.

The dark twin smacked himself again.

The pale twin's face jerked again to the side, his eyes watering.

Glaring at his twin, Ru covered his own rapidly bruising cheek and snapped, "Would you quit doing that!"

Instead of redness appearing on Mainframe's cheek, it appeared on the side of Ru's face.

"You hit me," Mainframe shrugged, hiking his thumb back his brother, "you only hurt him. You give him alcohol, I get drunk. You separate us more than 1000 meters, he gets sick. I hear his thoughts—he can't hear mine but he feels my pain or," he shrugged, "when I'm upset."

"I thought we agreed never to share that information!" Ru's angry shoulders shot up to his ears.

Mainframe ignored him, explaining further, "It's just a twin thing."

Doors hissed open. "No," a gravelly voice said, "it is a Force thing."

The men turned to see Lord Ren sweep into the room with several stormtroopers in tow, one carrying a very sleepy princess. Hux watched her cherubic form, nestle her head against the soldier's white armor, relieved.

The Dark Knight walked past the twins, "We will discuss your careers later."

The two men gulped as he made his way to the General, "So whom hacked into our system?"

Hux's expression went flat. "The Hapan women."

A dark tone entered Kylo's audio-filtered voice, "Then let's…" a hint of a deadly smile erupted in his tone, "wake up their men."


	35. Chapter 35

The ship's lights had long since adjusted from the blue-hued night setting to the more luminescent brightness suited for the day crew. _How long had it been morning?_ Hux flicked his eyes to the time signal on his office's aft wall. _0900 hours._

There was a moment in every general's life when his resolve tore between the sustainability of intent and the wavering of physiological deprivation. He felt it keenly. Disappointed and exhausted.

Hux exhaled—a poor attempt at ridding himself of his overwhelming weariness. "These Hapans are certainly pertinacious," he returned his attention to the holographic image before him, frowning, "We might have to execute one of them to force the others to talk."

"I wonder you took this long to arrive to that conclusion," Kylo Ren commented huskily through his mask's audio-filtration, "You're being too soft."

Hux snorted indignant. "Too Soft?" Closed his eyes irritated, he dipped his head. Leaning over the command console, he flared his nostrils ready to retort. Yet, sleep deprivation won out.

Instead, he suppressed the snide remark in preference for pushing off the crisp metal to face the dark knight. Hux clasped his hands behind his back, "Interplanetary transactions require delicate handling."

A sardonic bark of laughter erupted from Lord Ren. "Your definition of 'delicate handling' is stretching even for me." The black helmet swung back to the hologram. The image of the interrogating officer throwing his hands up in the air reflected on his shiny faceplate.

A pathetic scene played out before them. Their best interrogator was thwarted by the wilted-but-determined form of the Hapan second prince. Limited by orders for 'delicate handling.'

The dignitary lifted his eyes to the imager, a firm and rebellious glare flashing in their depths. It was a defiant gesture for someone strapped to an interrogation chair. Lip bloodied, the man spat at the camera. The prince was obstinate. Real obstinate. Especially after considerable effort on their part to get him to talk. Still the man had yet to break. And the others were the same before him. Despite their interrogatory efforts, the Hapans maintained their innocence.

Granted, the First Order had to take gentler measures than would be applied normally. One, to prevent the princess from sensing the extent of their workings. And two, the annexation was worth the restraint. Yet, they had to determine the cause of the data hack.

"This is a blasted waste of time!" Hux whipped his fist through the hologram, shattering it into a burst of light particles before it dissipated.

"Execute them or do not," Kylo offered with an apathetic shrug, "it matters little. These Hapans know nothing."

Hux walked through the remaining hologram particles to rub his dry eyes aggravated. "Come again?" he snipped.

Kylo's audio-filtered gravely voice enunciated slow and succinct, "They… know…nothing. There is nothing… in their insignificant skulls. No-thing."

"Blasted futile waste of time!" Hux kicked the console nearly breaking his own toe. He grit his teeth against the sharp pain in his foot and turned his anger on his associate, "And how long did you purport to keep this observation to yourself?"

Kylo snickered, "Long enough." He chuckled at the officer's pained momentary dance.

"We've been at this for hours," Hux hissed making his way to his desk, willing himself not to limp.

He slapped his palms on its ebony surface in a sudden increase of frustration then spun to face the knight, "Is this the extent of the force or were you trying to satisfy a darker need?"

Lord Ren shifted his upper body to the side, making the insignia cloth on his shoulder slip across his chest. "Boredom." He shrugged a light 'meh' motion,"Besides, the prince was the last one interrogated."

"It's a time honored principle," the general straightened his uniform in a snapping motion, "to leave the most difficult for last."

Kylo stretched his gloved fingers then curled them back into his palms. "Yes and the 'most difficult' does not know anything either."

"Then what do you purpose?" Hux leaned back against the edge of his desk, flummoxed by the whole affair, "We ask the ladies?"

"If need be," Lord Ren answered swiftly then jerked his head back in hesitation at what had just spurted out his own mouth.

The dark knight shifted his weight, spinning back to where the hologram had been as if it held answers for his rash decision. It was a tortuous motion that Hux had witnessed Kylo make on only a few other occasions—It signaled his indecision. As though a battle between the man's natural born conscious and his desire for power within the dark side was surfacing once again.

Hux sighed inwardly. Hoping to relieve his associate's internal tension as well as his own tiredness, he offered, "You could always just probe their minds like you did that Jakku girl." It was as close to throwing the man a bone as he was willing to go. Not one step further.

Kylo kept his back to him, shoulders slightly hunched in a seemingly battle ready pose. His breathing reflected an intense anger boiling, "And you saw how effective that was." The stack of data pads on Hux's desk jittered along with the bottles of brandy and glasses at the bar in response to the man's emotions.

Hux rolled his eyes. "Leave my brandy out of it."

Kylo paused, shifting his visor towards the bar. The bottles and glasses settled down, along with the sith's temper.

"I, for one," Hux unsuccessfully stifled a yawn, "prefer to sleep on it."

The helmet replied resolute, "We will obtain answers today."

Hux leaned back, bellowing a disgusted groan half-distorted by another yawn, "And what of the princess's sensitivities? She would most certainly notice such a… disturbance."

"What of them?"

"Do you not suppose she will protest?" The young general swiped his arm out to the side, "These are women we speak of, not soldiers." He didn't want to admit that partly he was too bone-weary to think, and partly he had his own reservations. Destroying a few planets was one thing, interrogating women… He shuddered inwardly. …was an entirely different avocation altogether.

"I have felt her protests all night," came Kylo's quiet answer after a few long moments. His throaty voice sounded almost regretful.

Hux blinked his red eyes several times, fingers itching to snag another drink. "Then she was fully aware of our activities this whole time?"

"Yes," Kylo replied with a hint of bitterness in his audio-filtered voice, "she has ranted incessantly about their innocence until but a few hours ago."

Too unsettled to cross the room to his bar, the general scoured his desk's liquor stash, desperately needing a drink. Or two. Or ten. Horror filled him. "Of course she sensed us." His hands shook as the bitterness in his soul heightened. "Of course."

Even the mask's speaker couldn't conceal the uncharacteristic eruption of concern in Kylo's baritone, "It's been a while since I last heard Apple protest," the untoward empathy increased, "She must have worried herself to sleep."

The dark knight cupped his left palm under his right elbow, tapping the base of his helmet with his fingers in a concern able manner. "She had been quite exhausted from spending her energy healing me."

Hux eyeballed the man, wondering what parasitic creature took over his body. Blasted-near-disturbing to witness Lord Ren be even remotely sentimental. And there he was, voicing more than a slight compassion for his aunt. Unnerving to say the least.

The general bit back the urge to make a contorted face, and settled for subscribing to acrid tenor, "Well… at least the princess has obtained some reprieve from this wretched night."

Kylo snickered, concern as gone as fast as it had appeared, "What's the matter, general? The work ebbing at you? Or is it the lack of sleep?"

"As if you are not craving rest as well," Hux countered with a sneer.

"I can last 48 hours without impingement."

The general frowned at the other man's smugness. "Yet you couldn't force them to talk anymore than I could."

"It does appear that Apple was correct in her assessment," Lord Ren conceded the issue with a shrug, "These prisoners are ignorant of the security breech—No amount of interrogation or force manipulation will change that."

Hux pierced his lips into a fierce line. The lights on the time keeper changed a few ticks before he even attempted to suppress his chagrin. His neck muscles stiffened and his nostrils flared. Anger didn't even begin to cover the emotions racing through him at that moment. Furious was more indicative.

The dark knight gripped the hilt of his saber in response then relaxed, apparently reconsidering the officer's flare-up as Hux poured himself some brandy.

Kylo snipped, "As if you would have listened to her petulant pouting yourself."

Hux guiltily shot his eyes away. In a few short strides, he found himself a seat on the couch.

"True." He sunk into the couch's thick cushions, slightly defeated, "The princess would attempt save the universe if unrestrained. And probably pick up every alien stray along the way," his eyes flitted to the black visor, "regardless of order or superiority. Bleeding hearts need to be checked." It was his resignation to Lord Ren's supposition in as few words as possible.

"Thought so," Kylo clipped then strode for the door.

"It's universally exasperating how highly the princess holds those Hapan fools in regard," Hux spat despite himself.

The general made a fist against his chest frustrated, "Can't she see our superiority? Doesn't she value our cause first before her sentimentalities?"

Kylo halted in his tracks, muscles tensing.

Hux ranted further too spent to bridle his tongue, "The Hapans are beneath her and yet she still seeks to … to…" he searched for the right word, twisting his mouth in contempt, "coddle them. Like they are some sort of charity case requiring her attention. The First Order doesn't have room for charity cases. And yet she—"

"My aunt sees our vision clearly," Kylo icily turned to face him, "Apple is an imperial."

"I realize that," Hux took a drink, grimacing at the burn in his throat, "but she's a sweet girl. Hardly the type to revel in our darker exploits, and I fear that—"

"Never has there been a woman that supports the dark side more than Apple," Kylo snapped.

He stalked towards him in deadly footfalls, power rising in the dancing of inanimate objects around the office, "She maybe too feminine and gentle to subscribe to its precepts herself, but she's loyal and dutiful. She will always choose our cause above all else." His voice deepened to a menacing growl, "Do not mistake her natural female tendencies, General," he sneered the title, "for foolish charity. You will recount your Republic-esque assessment of her," his hand went to his lightsaber, "or nothing will prevent me from severing your head from your shoulders, not even her… sentimentalities."

"By the Emperor's black heart, you mistake me." Hux was positively horrified at the insinuation. "Did you honestly assume I was censoring the princess?"

"You practically compared her to a Republic philanthropist!" Kylo hissed.

"I would never do the princess the dishonor!" Hux shook his head rapidly, blinking his eyes at the very idea of it, "I hold her in the highest regard. To compare her to a Republic philanthropist would be abominable! I just prefer she wouldn't hold such delicate emotions as to take upon herself the cares of these fools. This form of open sentimentality makes her vulnerable to disappointment and dissolution." He leveled his gaze at the dark knight, "No, Lord Ren, you are utterly mistaken. I adore her! And would do anything to protect her. "

Seemingly satisfied, Kylo removed his hand from his lightsaber.

"We have spent countless hours interrogating apparently innocent dignitaries of whom she values, and without results…" Hux scoured his eyes with his hand before throwing back a gulp of brandy, "Oh, how are we to face her?"

"You worry more about her responses than the Supreme Leader's," the dark knight's voice hinted of an eyebrow lift behind his mask.

Hux sent him a sideways glance with a humorous twist of his lips, "The Supreme Leader is not apt to pout with big teary blue eyes and say, 'I told you so.'"

Kylo laughed. "Obviously not," he shook his helmet, levity lighting his voice. "So the power of feminine reproofs outweighs that of a powerful Sith Lord?"

"In this instance," the general leaned his forearms onto his thighs regretful, "yes. How to endure the disappointment and reproof on the princess's beautiful face?"

Lifting off his helmet, Kylo tucked it under his armpit. "Apple would never embark on such a chitisch ploy." He smiled a secret smile as if contemplating some inside joke, "She adheres to a rather lengthy and apparently strict set of imperial rules of etiquette regarding interactions with officials and military. I highly doubt she would verbalize, 'I told you so.'"

Hux lifted his cup in mirthful acquiescence. "But she'd think it."

"Probably," came the amused reply.

Setting his helmet on the bar, Kylo rifled through the bottles. "All this alcohol but no water?" He glanced back at the general, "Are you trying to dehydrate yourself?"

Hux waved him off tiredly. "In the cooler. The one by your feet." He offered further, "Caffeine is in the one to your left," flipped his hand at a corner kitchenette, "and hot beverages are over there."

"Hmmm…" Kylo evaluated the area then snagged a couple bottles of water from the cooler, "You certainly have made yourself at home in this small Star Destroyer."

"I rather miss the _Finalizer_ ," Hux admitted then smiled sentimentally, "she had something special about her."

"Yes," the corner of Kylo's mouth turned upward in a twisted grin, "her immense size and sheer firepower."

Hux tipped his glass at him approving. "That too." He threw one back then grimaced at the burn in his throat. "It's like leaving one's home for something…" he looked around the room dissatisfied, "substantially subpar."

"The quarters you assigned the princess were 'substantially subpar,'" Kylo needled him.

The general bristled. "I told you—that was those hacking harpies! I had arranged for quarters worthy of even the Emperor himself!"

"Yes, blame it on three defenseless women."

"Those defenseless women nearly tore apart engineering," Hux pointed out, feeling like their conversation had suddenly digressed as did all those dialogues spoken during sleep deprivation.

Kylo pointed his water bottle at him. "The way those girls withstood the tear gas was in a word," a salty grin curled on his lips, "impressive."

After a long moment, his grin morphed into a disapproving frown, "Regretful they don't have the force." He popped the bottle's cap off and slugged down a mouthful of carbonated water. "A complete waste."

"Very pretty things. One could stare at them for a significant amount of time without scruples," Hux's eyelids lagged in his blinking too dry to do otherwise. "How could such beautiful creatures be so… contemptible?"

"They are women," Kylo said matter-of-factly, "Uncle Luke said all women are evil."

"Now you are quoting Skywalker?" Hux's brows shot to his hairline. "What is this universe coming to?"

Kylo's expression darkened. "He maybe our enemy, but in that statement, he was for once equitable."

"Does this include the princess in that summation?" Hux smiled behind his cup, baiting his colleague.

"Therein lies the exception to the rule," Lord Ren refused to take the bait, "but all women are said to be troublesome, and in that precept, Apple proves the anecdote accurate."

"Yes. Very troublesome." Hux smiled, expression softening at the thought of her childlike antics.

Yet, reflecting on the current predicament, he tussled that area in his upper back that tensed between his shoulder blades in an unsettled movement.

He put aside his glass on the stand next to him resigning, "But she is also very correct in her assessments."

"My aunt sees more than we give her credit for," Kylo admitted in such a tender manner that the general had to do a double take to make sure it really was the dark knight that had spoken.

"The benefit of having the force, I suppose." Hux picked up his almost empty tumbler to tip it towards himself, debating the effort of getting up to refill it.

He sent the Knight of Ren a sidelong glance. "I wonder why your force abilities vary so widely from hers—Being from the same family. Albeit, a 2% probability of shared genetics in your cases."

Kylo ran his thumb across the raised label on his water bottle. "Not much is understood of the force and how it manifests in individuals," he nursed his drink for a long moment then added, "Not these days anyway."

"I thought perhaps at least some records were salvaged."

"None." Kylo answered. "All known sith records were destroyed by the rebels during the first years of the Republic." A bitter tone entered his voice. "My family saw to that. And only a few old Jedi holocrons remained from the age before that." He took another long drink. "Few are left that practice the old ways. But the Supreme Leader might possess an answer as to why there are such discrepancies. He has hinted that he has lived more than long enough to view first-hand the changes within the Force."

After a slight pause, he frowned bitterly taking on a completely left-handed tangent, "The Jakku girl had a substantial amount of force… Very different than—" he cut himself off then coverd, "Her force pull was…" he took another drink, "surprising."

"Still interested in searching for that wretch?" Hux asked, his fatigued mind feeling more conversational than normal, "Our spies have determined that she has already reached your uncle. We'll find her when we discover him. Then you can have your revenge."

"Before that, Luke'll train her no doubt," a dark angry shadow crossed the sith's face. "One more jedi to kill."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," the corner of Hux's mouth twisted upward.

The two shared a look then laughed darkly.

"So then," Hux slapped his thighs, returning to their original dilemma, "having not taken the princess's assessment seriously in the first instance, how are we to salvage this alliance?"

"Salvage this alliance?" Kylo barked out a sardonic laugh, "It is not worth salvaging."

"I dare say it is," Hux flatly disagreed. "Access to even one planet with negative energy reserves is well worth the effort. And the Hapes Consortium rebels are offering us four. Not to mention…" He squinted at the stack of data pads on his desk, feeling a little too wiped out to get up off the couch.

"The numbers of resources are quite substantial," he said too mentally weary to recall the details. With a yawn, he ticked his fingers at his desk, "Force that top data pad over here. It has all the figures in it."

"Get up and get it yourself." Kylo snipped.

"When you can just wave your magic fingers and will it over here?" Hux suppressed another yawn. "Come now, show off those mighty force skills and send it over here."

"My force skills can be easily demonstrated by," Kylo smiled evily, "choking you until you die."

The general threw his hand down in a slurred motion, giving up. "Doesn't matter. The annexation is in favor of the First Order with much to be gained. Enough to warrant a political…" he moved his head to stretch the tension out of his neck against the thought of it, "apology on our part for this evening's activities."

"Apologize?!" Kylo practically crushed the glass bottle in his hand. Water sprayed in all directions farther than would've been normal had he not imploded the bottle with the force. "To those fools?! You can't possibly be serious!"

Hux flicked a few water droplets off his overcoat, matter-of-fact. "Technically they had no knowledge of the breech. And we can—through effective negotiations—overlook this matter entirely."

"Then who do we claim attacked our security systems?" Kylo argued, "The Ewoks?"

"A few foolish women," Hux tugged his gloves off fingers first, "They were shopping for shoes and accidentally slipped into the wrong data port. Nothing more."

Kylo laughed a cold dark sound. He shook the remaining water off his gloves, the force lifting the droplets into the air around him, "Yes, that is precisely the image we should portray before the entire universe."

The floating water droplets stopped mid-air then crashed to the metal floor. "The powerful First Order's immense security was breeched by a three hormonal harpies purchasing feminine hygiene products and immodest swimwear."

Kylo sneered, driving his point in further, "I'm sure the esteemed Grand Admiral and the Supreme Leader will relish the telling of it at your hands."

Hux stiffened, features losing color. "We'll blame a few fallen officers for the leak. Herfor'de can easily be sacrificed for this indiscretion—"

"Another embarrassing loss."

"And what do you purport that we do?" Hux asked exasperated. "Brush the matter entirely under the table? Act as though it never happened?"

"Publicly execute one of the Hapan noblemen," Kylo held up a tight fist, the leather of his glove protesting the motion, "as a demonstration of our absolute power."

"And I suppose the nobles will be willing to accept full blame when the women acted all on their own?" Hux dripped with sarcasm.

"In their maternalistic culture," Kylo droned, "they would sacrifice a number of their males for but one woman."

Hux smirked over his cup, "And how is that different from our own culture?"

Kylo stopped, outrage subsiding in accordant understanding of the general's meaning.

Leaning back in his seat, Hux stretched his boots out before himself. "No, I am against an execution. It's an unnecessary procedure that will produce more trouble than it is worth. Not that I wouldn't prefer that every one of them died an ignominious death, but this needs a political solution. The annexation is worth a plausible deniability—"

"This is not rectifiable," Kylo snatched his spare bottle of water to point it at him, "I can sense their hatred. They will not forgive this night."

"They might… given a certain," a smile spread over the general's face, "point of view."

"Where have I heard that before?" Kylo muttered out the side of his mouth.

"We have something they want," Hux smiled cruelly. "The princess. They would procure any damage to obtain her."

"I will be blasted before I allow my Apple be dragged into their foolish civil war!" Kylo crushed his new bottle into the wall. It shattered, spraying water and glass. The blow left a soaked dent in the thick metal.

About to take a drink, Hux stiffened in realization. Slowly pulling the tumbler away from his lips to set it aside, he asked icily. "'My Apple?' How is it that the princess is suddenly _your_ ," he stressed, "'Apple?'"

"I said, 'My Aunt,' you twit." Kylo spun on him. "And I won't have her utilized as some pawn in—"

"You said," Hux's taut smile frosted even further, "'My Apple.'"

Enraged Kylo lifted his fingers to force choke the man, but snapped his head towards the door instead.

It hissed open and a very disheveled princess swept in, wrangling two women by their ears. One was the licentious redhead and the other the mocha-colored brunette. Both in handcuffs. And from the looks of things, the miffed princess had them at quite the disadvantage as they complained with several, "oww oww owes."

Lieutenant Commander Ru rushed in after her, "Your highness wait!" A handful of stormtroopers and his highly amused twin poured into the room after them.

General Hux shot to his feet, "Your highness!" He took in all of her appearance and gasped horrified. "Your highness?"

Tattered dress covered in black grease, hair falling haphazardly out of coifed braids with frayed ribbons, and eyes aflame with fury, she was a sight to be seen.

Apple shoved the two Hapes women further into the room, releasing their ears to wipe her hands in irate motions. "I apologize my good General, but this will have to take a small moment of your time." She pointed at them, angrily, "These ladies have something they want to say to you. General Hux meet," she pointed at the red head, "Lady River and," pointed at the other sister, "the Lady Blaze from Hapan. Ladies meet the man whom you are going to tell the entire truth."

"How'd—?" Hux began.

"The vents," the princess answered distractedly glaring at the other girls, grease smeared cheeks puffed out in an exceedingly tempestuous pout. She put her hands on her hips, "Now out with it."

The ladies pierced their lips, but dropped their heads.

Hux sent a hateful glance at his subordinate. "Lieutenant Commander explain."

Ru stumbled over himself, features reddening, "I'm sorry sir, but I was unable to stop her. She rather… ah," he rubbed the back of his neck as if searching for the right word, "blew a… ah, princess-sized hole in the duct system and crawled to the detention level…" his voice cracked in a squeak, "through it."

Hux bristled, voice turning viciously husky. "All the security in the First Order, and somehow you managed to permit a blind little girl break into the detention level?"

"To be fair, sir," Ru stammered, blinking his eyes rapidly and crushing his shoulders up to his ears, "She's the princess. And she packs… quite a…" he flicked his eyes to the rather ashamed and battered-looking entourage, "punch, sir."

Kylo covered his mouth with the back of his forearm, shoulders jostling.

Veins pulsating at his temples, Hux roared, "Your main priority lieutenant was to keep her safe!" He sharply opened his hand at the princess's scraggy appearance. "Does this look safe to you?!"

The lieutenant commander flinched.

"Oh don't blame him," the princess dismissed his argument, "I accidentally knocked out an entire platoon."

Eyebrows shooting to the ceiling, Hux nearly choked on his own tongue.

"Accidentally?" Kylo stepped towards his aunt, smirking as if more than amused. "Are they still alive?"

"Yes they are still alive!" She pouted indignantly, "Of course they are still alive," she blustered then tapped her index fingers together, blushing and voice turning diminutive, "just in sick bay…" she winced at her confession, "for injuries and broken bones."

Kylo chuckled cruelly. "That all?"

"Hey! I thought there was a wall there…" she blinked her long eyelashes, eyes flitting side to side abashedly, "…or two."

Lord Ren threw his head back, bursting into loud laughter.

"Oh you be quiet," she puffed out her cheeks with an irritated 'mrr' sound, "Nobody can be as perfect as you."

The laughter stopped on a dark note. "Yes. I would've killed them if they stood in my way."

Apple made a face at him. "Well pin a Naboo rose on your nose."

She turned her attention to Ru, flapping her fingers towards herself impatiently at him, "Alright, give me it."

The officer hesitated, eyes flitting to the general and back.

"Come on, Ru. Give it." She complained.

Ru reluctantly pulled an electric razor from his belt to put it in her palm.

Apple turned her attention on the other two women, determination flooding her features again. "Now, ladies," she flipped the razor on in a stark buzzing sound, causing them to blanch, "what was it that you meant to tell the General?"

 ******Thank you for reading. Please feel free to post comments and reviews*****


	36. Chapter 36

Disheveled torn dress, tousled hair falling out of braids haphazardly, black grease on her cheek and down the front of her skirts, the princess blew at a stray frizzed lock out of her face in a frustrated puff. On hand on her hip, she wielded a man's hair clipper with her other hand in the same manner Lord would have a lightsaber. The two rather-unsettled Hapes women followed the razor's movement with widened eyes. Then again, the scarlet haired River appeared largely unsettled, her brunette sister watched the device almost creepily enthralled.

Cheeks angrily puffed, Apple stared down the two stronger-appearing women. Despite the Hapes females being on their knees before her, the women's height in comparison to her small size was still more than apparent. Whereas, the top of the princess's head would have come up to just below Hux's shoulder, the Hapes women would have—if standing—be able to almost stare him in the eye as it were. Only just hand's breath shorter than him, their height alone would've deterred most other imperial women. Yet, the much smaller princess—a diminutive fragile-appearing figure—brought her feminine fury to bear upon the two prisoners, more than making up for the height difference.

"Now you tell them the truth!" She lifted an electric razor, flipping it on with her thumb, ""Tell them why you violated their privacy and cyberhacked into their infrastructure. Or you are getting a new haircut."

Hux jerked his upper body back, eyebrows shooting to the ceiling. And careful observation demonstrated that the Lord Ren most likely was just as astounded as he was.

A grin unfolded on Kylo's lips. "Now that is…" He turned the grin on the general snidely, " _my_ Apple."

The young general shot him a narrowed eyed glare. The son of a murlak was needling him.

"Talk," Apple raised the electric razor with an expression of major stink face. The buzzing increased in warning. "Because I'm feeling the urge to shave something."

River's eyes went wide. "Alright. Alright! I'll talk just don't cut my hair."

"Third sister!" Blaze hissed at her.

"You stay out of it," Apple chided her, bobbing the clipper at her, "Or you're getting a mullet just for my benefit."

Blaze blanched with a jerking flinch then dropped her head.

Hux flicked his eyes to the Dark Lord whom appeared more amused than the young general felt at that moment. Rather, Hux felt… shocked. In a single word, shocked. Strangely, this new side of the princess was… rather, he felt a smile curl up on his lips… appealing. Fiesty.

Apple amped up the razor. It's buzzing increased in fury. "Now, spill."

"It was us!" River bawled, cowering away from the razor waving inches from her red curls. "Only us! Our brothers weren't involved—They did't even know about the mission."

Blaze snickered, giving her sister an exasperated look, "They're men. Of course they didn't know anything." her aqua-colored eyes formed slits at the general, "How could _men_ ," the word was stressed disparagingly, "be involved in important matters? Do you consider us stupid: We keep our men in the dark—as they should be," she sneered, "Because they know their place."

Hux pierced his lips until they formed a white line, careful to clutch his curling fists behind his back. _So this was the extent of Hapes femininism_. He glowered down at the impudent woman. She met his hateful glare with one of her own. _Disappointing._ Flawless beauty scarred by such an abhorrent expression that it was almost contemptible. _Spiteful witch._

"And your is in the kitchen," Mainframe snarked out the side of his mouth, sparking a ruckus of chuckles from the soldiers.

Blaze torqued her upper body towards him, straining against the stormtroopers' grip on her shoulders. "Say that to my face, neckbeard!"

Eyebrows popping upward amused, Mainframe smirked, "Neckbeard? Seriously? Is that the best mansult you can come up with?"

He bent forward at the waist to whisper loud enough for the soldiers outside the door to hear him, "Surely you can do better than that or is your mustache," He flicked his fingers above his upper lip, "stealing nutrients from your wee little girlie brain."

A few of the soldiers snickered much to the woman's chagrin.

"You will die at my hand!" She scraped her bound claws at his throat.

"A little off the top, dearie," he made another mustache gesture at her.

"Enough!" Hux barked, "Save the needling for academy." He paced slowly and deliberately. "Now…" he stopped before them, cold and severe, "you will talk."

"We're not telling you poodoo!"

Hux's eyes flashed.

"Oh, you are just begging for a new haircut," Apple snipped at her, drawing the general's attention, "Tell him the truth, or it is going to be a whole lot more than a little off the top."

"But he's a man!" Blaze gasped horrified.

"Well," the princess chuckled, anger mollifying, "that's obvious! Even a blind woman can see that's he's a man."

The way that she said that brought a proud flush to the general's face.

River grinned maliciously, "The Shakal makes a valid point." She winked at him and blew a sultry kiss.

Hux's face reddened in a different manner.

Blaze swung her head to face her sister aghast. "Really? Really, River? He's the enemy."

"He's not the enemy," the scarlet haired sister made a disapproving mewing sound, "look at him. He's like a sweet little cherub." She cooed at him, "aren't you? Yes, you are in your spiffy little uniform."

"By the Imperial standard!" Hux gasped taken back. "Is she insane?"

"Do you have to flirt with every male you see?" Blaze chastised with a condescending sneer. "It's mortifying."

"But he's so adorable. Look at him in his pretty uniform." River shimmied with a flirtatious squeal, "So cute!"

Hux groaned and smacked a palm against his face. Spinning on his heel, he stalked away, "Lord Ren, you deal with them. I'm too tired for this."

"Are you sure, general?" The dark lord smirked, "You seem to be handling this interrogation…" the smile widened cruelly, "quite… adorably."

Hux shot him a hateful look.

River flipped her red curls back over her left shoulder then over her right shoulder. With a twitch of her eyebrows at Kylo, she began to flirt with him.

Bored, he crossed his arms across his broad chest. "I'd kill you as soon as look at you."

The women snapped their attention to Apple for verification.

The princess shrugged with a sheepish look, "He's right, he probably would." Not to repentant over her nephew's callousness, she added as if it explained everything, "he is a sith afterall."

"But he's so pretty," River pouted, then flashed him a sultry smile, "all dark and dangerous. Like a fabulous black hole."

"Of course he is," Apple countered, impatiently, "he's my nephew. Now enough of flirting with every man in the room—"

"She hasn't flirted with me yet," Mainframe stepped forward to supply with a twisted grin.

Apple dropped her head with a groan. "River please flirt with him so we can finish this interrogation and finally get some sleep."

The breathtaking red-head blew him a kiss.

"Thank you," he grinned broadly then stepped back in line.

Taking a steadying breath, Apple closed and opened her eyes before calmly continuing, "Ladies, must I relay to you again your list of offenses against the First Order. First off, you nearly caused an interplanetary incident, and by my Imperial grandfather's Black heart, I still don't know if you haven't entirely botched the entire amalgamation altogether."

The other two women withered under her penetrating stare.

The princess continued, her voice a sharp whisper, the kind a courtier would employ in reprimanding children while at court, "Not to mention, your antics nearly cost seven noblemen…" She searched for a moment before saying, "and the however many countless other soldiers tied to this diplomatic interlude, their lives." She shook her frazzled blonde curls in absolute disbelief, "And yet, you say, the men should know their place?"

A terribly disappointed expression crossed her face more damning than if she had roared at them. Instead, her voice was soft and calm, "No. The men were not foolish enough to get caught with their hands in another government's data. You were and your enterprising could've cost your cause everything. It is embarrassing and as you are supposed to be my handmaids, how will I recover from such an absurd quandary?"

"We had our orders!" Blaze burst, almost uncharacteristically desperate. Up until that point, she appeared to be the steady one. Yet at that moment, her eyes widened and her face contorted into an expression of such frenzied horror that Hux found himself in awe of the princess's simplistic technique.

"Your orders?!" She stomped her foot, eyes flinching at the pain the movement caused. "To hack into the First Order's security interfaces while your prince was aboard?" Apple bristled, then softened her tone into a stern reprimand, "To embarrass me and make trouble for my most beloved nephew? To nearly destroy this beautiful ship's engineering? To make a mockery of everything that I stand for and hold dear? Were those your orders? Who was senseless enough to lead you on that preposterous mission?" She lifted the razor. "Now talk or you two are getting some nasty haircuts by a blind woman."

"Alright!" River cried, trying to cover her hair with her handcuffed hands. "Just don't cut my hair. Don't cut my hair!"

Blaze shot her a hateful look. "Coward."

"Shut up, Blaze," River spat at her, eyes streaming tears, "This is all your fault. If you were better at hacking!"

"Me?!" Blaze spouted nearly gasping, "You went on an online shopping spree!"

"Those bikinis were 50% off!"

Apple raised the razor, saying simply, "A little off the top, or should I start with the sides?"

"Alright!," River confessed, "it was us. Only us. We acted entirely alone on orders from our mother."

"Your mother?" Apple gasped horrified. "What kind of mother would send her own daughters into such a dangerous situation?"

"She had us hack into the First Order's systems to determine if you were legit or just a clone. We had to know if we were to accept you as the future Queen. "

"Reasonable, but you wouldn't find that in the First Order systems," Apple waved dismissively, "I was frozen in carbonite for nearly 30 years. Why didn't you just ask? The only place that you would find such records was at my father's fortress on Mustafar."

Kylo swung his upper body to face her, expression unreadable. "Mustafar?"

Apple waved his question off, impatiently, "A volcanic sooty place, but you'll like it. The fortress even has a sith cave underneath connecting to an ancient sith temple. We'll visit it later—I'll show you the holocron vault."

An almost gasping-choking sound erupted from Kylo's throat but he made no further comment. Spinning his back to them, he shoved the knuckles of his left hand into his mouth, surpassing his excitement.

Hux pressed his lips together. For such a Vader enthusiast as Kylo Ren was, the fact that he didn't know about Mustafa and it's fate was surprising. But Hux would be blasted before he told either of them that the fortress was practically burnt to the ground by the Republic decades ago.

The princess leveled her gaze at the two women, "I assume discovering my lineage wasn't the only reason why you ventured to almost ruin everything, was it?"

"We were sent to assess the future Shakal's worthiness," Blaze explained.

That warranted a serious crusty from her sister, and a lofty yawn out of Apple.

"A mute point," the princess lifted an eyebrow, "you didn't need to dig around in First Order files to determine my credibility. Excuses. Keep talking, you're going to have to do better than that to convince me not to give you a shave."

"Our mother and aunts thought an organization run by men would be weak and useless…" River spilled rapidly then paused to make a quirky look, "I mean really can you blame them. Men maybe cute…" she winked at Kylo then blew a kiss at Hux, "But intellectual…" She made a grimacing face. "…not likely."

Blaze added, "Everyone knows that males are lacking in superior intellect."

Apple turned the setting up on her razor, "What was that again?"

The women's eyes widened, and River burst, "Men are just as smart as women." If a broad grin was any faker than hers, the young general had never seen it.

Apple turned off her razor. "That's more like it."

"Our honorable mother," Blaze continued in the explanation, not nearly as rattled as her sister, "sent us to determine the strength of the First Order, whether it was worth an alliance and rebellion against the Queen Mother. We were not willing to lose everything for an alliance with fools."

With a curt smile, Apple flipped the razor back on, "I'm thinking bangs. How about you?"

"It's the truth!" River burst.

Apple's expression went dry. "And?"

"We faked the whole fight to acquire the security codes to hack into their system," River blustered on, eyes shooting to the razor in the princess's hand.

Apple's expression flattened even further. "We already figured as much."

"It was our job as your protectors," River's words tumbled out in a garbled mess, "if you were the Shakal—then we were to acquire the information to protect you at all costs. We were assigned to protect you, even if it meant taking you from the First Order, if they weren't worthy of protecting you. It's the truth!"

Hux stiffened, shifting his eyes to the princess as she returned his glance.

Apple blinked her eyelashes rapidly then smiled a strained smile. Turning back to the Hapes sisters, she said simply, "Ladies, the First Order is an extension of the Empire. I am an imperial and these men…" She circled her index finger at the room of soldiers, "are my family. So if you or anyone else thinks that you can pry me from here then you've been sniffing way too much spice."

Several of the officers exchanged proud smirks.

The princess's professional demeanor melted into that of a petulant child. "And if anyone even tries to take me away from my nephew," she opened her hand to Lord Ren, "he will beat the living saarlac out of them."

The Hapes noblewomen glanced at the knight of Ren. The murderous glare turning his blue eyes a site's amber caused them to blanch. The two women leaned back away from him.

Apple waved the razor again. "Now tell what else…?"

"I used a First Order officer's credits to purchase bikinis and a couple pairs of shoes…" River babbled, large eyes zeroed on the razor.

The princess flipped on the device again.

"Alright!" River burst, "ten pairs of shoes and seven purses!"

"And the officer's name?"

"I don't know."

The buzzing increased in vibrating.

"I swear, I don't know!" She practically shrieked, "I don't know!" She covered her head. "It was just some random guy that I was making out with in the hall."

Hux and Kylo exchanged a disgusted look. _The girl was a blatant tart_.

"He just had great lips," River babbled, "I didn't bother to get his name. I mean is it wrong that," the last came out in a pathetic bawl, "he was just some guy I wanted to mack on?!"

Hux rubbed his dry eyes, a major headache coming on. He said out the side of his mouth to Kylo, "Remind me to never allow women aboard this ship again."

"The officer's name was Ensign Li'u," Mainframe supplied then added for the looks sent his way, "The code was easily traceable in their cyberhack—Li'u didn't have the security authorization for the information they were attempting to access."

Apple returned her attention to the confessor, "And the officer will be properly reimbursed with interest?"

"Yes! Yes!" River burst, rattling over herself, "Of course!"

"Anything else?" The razor buzzed.

"I'm not twenty-one," she started to bawl even louder, "I lied on my pilot's exam and when I crashed the practice fighter, I blamed it on Blaze!"

Her sister snapped her head to her aghast. "That was you?!" She lunged at her, handcuffed claws ripping for her hair. "I'll kill you! I had to forfeit my allowance for a whole year!"

Stormtroopers jumped into action, separating the she-devils.

Apple sighed, beyond exasperated, "I meant anything else, concerning your offenses against the First Order."

The two women stopped trying to strangle each other.

River scooted further away from her sister and confessed further, "I proposed to thirty of your officers, not intending to marry a single one of them. And I'm supposed to go to sexual harassment courses because I smacked their bums." She prattled on, "So I liked their bums. They were cute! I mean, can't a girl look? There's nothing wrong with looking at a little eye candy. But I swear that's all! On the grave of my grandmother, I swear it!" She curled up into a ball attempting to cover her hair with her bound hands. "Now please don't shave my head. Please don't shave my head."

Hux covered his face with his palm. He was definitely too tired for this.

"We don't know the rest," Blaze answered glaring at her hysterical sister then focused on the princess. "That is the truth. We don't know anymore."

"Yes, but I know who does," Apple told them then shot her eyes to Mainframe. He nodded in response and swiftly strode out the door.

The princess turned a beautiful smile on Hux and Kylo despite the black grease smearing her cheek. "Now gentlemen, that's how you get women to confess."

She curtsied, opening her arms outward in a dramatically self-satisfied flourish. Too bad, she still had the razor turned on. And even more unfortunate was its close proximity to the mass of red hair on River's head.

Zip! A thick red curling lock fell to the ground, to the princess's and River's horror.

"My hair!" River shrieked.

"Yikes!" Apple grimaced, hurriedly shoving the razor into a stormtrooper's hands. "He did it!"

The unfortunate trooper fumbled with the device as River bawled, big fat tears. "My hair!" She shrieked, wailing at the loss of her front curl.

The princess grimaced further.

With a loud hydraulics hiss, the doors slid open as Mainframe escorted a shackled breathtaking brunette into the room by her forearm.

Hux found his jaw slacken at the woman's raw beauty. Thick black hair tumbled down her back from a careless ponytail. Its glossy shine reflected the artificial lights in such as way as to draw a man's breath from his chest. She flicked her large violet eyes around the office, blinking some of the thickest and longest black eyelashes the general had her seen. And her shape was enough to put Twi'lek to shame. Even the Lord Ren straightened when she focused her gorgeous eyes on him for a fleeting glance.

Roan surveyed the room carefully as if taking in every detail, including her sister's mourning a red curl. "So, you didn't last long under interrogation, I presume?"

"My hair."

Apple grimaced, pointing, "That was an accident."

A corner of Roan's mouth twitched then she removed her attention to the two men before her. "The General and the Dark Sith. I have been briefed on your careers," she said with such little emotion that she could have ben mistaken for a porcelain doll, "I must admit that I've never seen powerful men before." A dark eyebrow arched, "I don't know whether to be impressed or disappointed."

Hux bristled. "Depends on whether you value your life or not."

She smiled a slow impertinent smile, "Of course."

Apple rolled her eyes, exhaling exasperated. "Is there a return policy for handmaids, because I am tempted to shoot the whole lot of you out an airlock."

Roan's smile disappeared quickly with a penitent drop to her knee and bow of her head. "Forgive me, your highness."

Apple waved her hand dismissively, "I'll think about it." Fabric of her gown swishing against the floor, she ventured further into the office, carefully feeling out in front of her for synthetic objects blocking her way.

"Gentlemen," she smiled at the stormtroopers back over her shoulder, "could you please escort the other ladies outside? Ru's please remain."

The officers glanced at their General. Hux nodded and flicked his hand at them waving them out.

Waiting until the stormtroopers and other officers hustled the two sisters out the door, Apple turned a topsy-turvy smile on the eldest Hapes sister. "Lady Roan, tell them the real reason why you hacked into the system. And don't give me the determining my worth or that of the First Order jargon, because we all know that is pure fodder."

"You knew?" She asked, shocked, "Not even my sisters knew."

"No real clandestine operation would be invoked for such a paltry cause." Apple felt for a seat, locating a side stand. Palpating its edges and surface until she was satisfied, she smoothed her skirts behind her to sit down on it. "…It's obvious you were looking for something entirely different."

Roan hesitated, shooting her eyes to the others remaining in the room.

"I trust these men here with my life." She opened her hand to Kylo, "And my nephew has eliminated all the spy devices."

Hux spun to the dark lord, "There were bugs in my office?" A cold rage filled him.

"Four." Kylo answered apparently approving of his anger, "The old Captain had acquired enough enemies that three of them were from his days."

"But one was new," Hux considered then asked furious, "When was it placed?"

"Before Apple and I were out of sick bay," Kylo surmised, "I'd assume perhaps more than two weeks."

Hux moistened his lips, "Right before we transferred to this ship?"

"Correct," Kylo replied.

"And who placed it?" The General felt his blood boil.

"Roan, if you would," Apple opened her hand with a tip down of her chin, "please tell the esteemed general."

"We discovered evidence that the Queen Mother has a spy within the First Order," came the noblewoman's straightforward answer, "Someone high up in the ranks. Our mission was to discover the operative and eliminate him or her."

"And did you discover the identity of the agent?" Apple asked, apparently expecting a negative answer.

Roan dropped her head. "No."

Mainframe rubbed his chin to settle on scratching the side of his face. "I blocked their cyberhack. They wouldn't be able to even determine what size underwear the troopers wear from the construct I trapped them in."

Roan shot him a perturbed look. "But we had access codes and—"

He shrugged. "You should've used a droid. Even then, I could see your cyberhack a solar system away." He apparently was the only man in the room, not affected by the woman's extraordinary beauty. Perhaps, he preferred loose red-heads.

"One, when you cyber sneak into a system next time don't put on such a show beforehand," he told her flatly, "Two, when you use a security code stick to the level the code was designed for. And three, don't play piddley-winks with the data substructures."

Roan flicked her long black ponytail back over her shoulder to give him a seething look.

"Sweetie," Mainframe folded his arms across his chest, "don't ewok yourself. You never had a chance of success to begin with."

Roan jolted, blinking her long eyelashes rapidly. But her lips formed a firm scowling line.

"Oh he is skilled in empathy," Apple answered her unspoken question, "He'd have sensed you were up to something the moment you thought it."

She lifted her eyes to somewhere just above his face, expression reflecting a light-hearted discovery then sobered slightly as she attempted to redirect the conversation back to its original course. "Could you determine the leak?"

"In time," the computer expert shrugged, "but it'd be faster if I had a baseline."

"Kylo," Apple scooted an empty tumbler way from herself then wiped her hands, "do you still have the bug?"

He reached in his tunic to pull out a small broken device. Pinched between his forefinger and thumb, a tiny chip hung out of it by a minuscule wire. "It was about to send it for further analysis."

"You've been carrying it with you all this time," she teased him, "I wonder that you didn't already give it a name and a collar."

The Dark Knight narrowed his eyes in response in a snide look but didn't reply.

Hux seethed at him, "When did you purport to telling me that my office was being spied upon?"

"After I determined its source," the dark knight said lazily, "Obviously not a Republic design," his tone more than questioned Hux's intelligence level, "this is a First Order manufacture, so a traitor placed it. After I send it for further analysis, I will find and eliminate the traitor myself."

"Sending it out won't be necessary," Apple interjected, "it's source can be discovered simply by touching it."

"Impossible." Kylo scowled. "Nothing can be obtained from merely 'touching it'. I've _touched it_ ," he sneered the words, "for over 24 hours and discovered nothing."

"Oh you are ever the optimist, my most-favored nephew," she tilted her head to the side flashing him one of her teasing smiles, "but psychometry is not one of your gifts. It's one of his," she opened her hand to the lieutenant commander… or rather to the wall next to him.

Kylo turned a sharp hateful look on the older man. "Am I to believe that an untrained—"

"Kylo," Apple said delicately, shaking her disheveled blond curls, "every force sensitive is different. Ru 1 is especially gifted in psychometry or otherwise known as force touch. It's a natural part of him."

"Ru 1?" Hux shot his eyebrows to the ceiling.

"Yes, Ru 1," she indicated the lieutenant commander, "and Ru 2," she nodded towards his darker twin. "Ru 1 is the elder twin. Was it by one minute?"

The lieutenant commander blushed, "Two minutes, your highness."

"See. Ru 1." She beamed. "The first-born Ru."

Hux was losing his patience. The past 24 hours has been an entire disaster and now a spy has bugged his office? "Yes… and how will he shed some light on this predicament?"

The princess pouted and smoothed out the fabric of her tattered dress on her lap. "Ru 1 has inherited psychometry and the ability to determine future probabilities, that is what makes him so effective in military strategy and leadership of a ship."

Everyone just stared blankly at her, including the Hapes prisoner.

Apple tried again, as if they were as dense as out-dated droids. "He's what we call a pre-flex." That explanation didn't help either. She tried a third time, "Someone that can determine future possibilities through grasping the past. And in this case, through psychometry—sensing the emotional residue upon inanimate objects."

"Your highness, do you expect me to understand that the Ru twins are force sensitives whom…" Hux swallowed his disbelief at the absurdity of the situation, "through merely touch things sense the past, and then through some magical means…" he racked his exhausted brain, scrunching his features in paltry misunderstanding, "determine statistical probabilities about the future?"

"No," Apple answered then grinned, "Only Ru 1. Ru 2, on the other hand is an empath and has force reflexes—intellectual force reflexes," she corrected herself for further clarification, "hence why he is a cyber genius."

The twins glanced at each other, with the lieutenant commander ventured, "It's true, sir. We just assumed it was some twin fluke. We never dreamt that it was had anything to do with the force."

"But weren't you men routinely scanned for midichlorians upon entering the First Order?" Apple's brow furrowed.

The men stared blankly at her.

"Not a First Order prerogative, I assume," she observed flatly. "But surely the First Order has a listing of force traits?" Still blank stares. "Force capabilities and classes?" She tried a third time, almost exasperated, "Force 101? Force for dummies?"

Roan yawned at her feet. "You are wasting your time, Shakal. No one considers those old ways anymore."

"Silence, woman," Kylo snipped at her, "There are those of us that honor the dark side."

"Yes," Roan bobbed her head, "but that's the dark side. Not the force hoodoo magic like the twin dorks over there stumbled upon."

Kylo straightened, slightly satisfied then strode to his aunt, towering over her, "And yet you kept these observations from me."

"I thought you already knew about them," she pouted at him seemingly discomforted by the idea, "Didn't you notice that I relied upon Ru 1 more than any other officer? Surely you felt the small twinge of the force wafting off him when he would make strategic decisions?"

Kylo scowled, features reddening around the edges.

She tried with a deepening pout, "And he wears gloves constantly, refusing to touch anyone or anything without them." She opened both her hands with a grin as if to say, 'see', "Psychometry. The beloved curse of psychometry, a life without ever touching anything that has negative emotions left upon it." Her expression turned hopeful.

"Wearing gloves continually aboard a _ship_ ," Kylo roared, " _in space_ does not give evidence for a force sensitivity!"

Her bottom lip quivered a tiny bit under the power of outrage. "But I really did think you already sensed it. I mean, I realize that the force isn't even remotely as strong in them as in our family, but it is there."

She squinted her eyes questioningly at him, then her expression brightened in childlike realization, "Oh that's it! You are just so used to being around our family. Not all force users can be like us Skywalkers are and you're just not used to sensing the lower force classes."

Kylo drew his head back slowly, inhaling through his nostrils, finally glancing away. He snarked, bitterly, "You could have at least said something."

Apple shrugged, "I just did." She waved her hand rapidly at him, "Come on. now hand Ru 1 the bug."

Kylo telekinetically threw it at the other man's chest. Flinching, Lieutenant Commander Ru stumbled back a step, scrambling to grab the broken device. He glanced up at the princess bewildered, "Your highness, I'm not sure I can…"

"Go on," she encouraged him, "you can do it. Just take off your glove."

"Use your hatred," Kylo coached, lifting a fist.

Apple flapped her hand down at him, "Psychometry doesn't work by emotion, it works by the lack of emotion." She encouraged Ru, "Blank your mind and just… feel."

After a final glance around at the others, Ru hesitantly pulled his glove off and touched the tiny bug. He snapped his eyes to Hux's face, "It was one of the prep staff. I don't know him, but he had brown hair," he closed his eyes, eyelids flickering as if being hit with flashing images, "A sergeant."

Roan grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm, "That limits things down superbly."

Apple ignored her, attention on the lieutenant commander, "Concentrate on his name."

"Staff Sergeant U—…" he ventured, then shook his head, "I don't know." He opened his eyes, "I am not able—."

"What was his emotional state?" Apple inquired.

Ru tried again, expression close to constipation. "Duty." He shook his head. "Only duty."

"To whom?" Apple questioned, "To a higher ranked officer or to the Hapan Consortium?"

"I…don't…" Ru squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, "A higher ranked officer…? Probably. I-I'm not sure." He opened his eyes, flitting them nervously to Kylo's face. "I apologize. Lord Ren touched it and I…" He lowered his head embarrassed, "There is no way that I am able to distinguish past his touch. His presence is too powerful and he's…" he made a squeamish face as if preparing to get killed, "wishing to murder the general."

Hux straightened his uniform sleeves taking it in stride. "Tell me something that I don't know."

"Good job!" Apple praised the lieutenant commander happily, and then shifted her upper body to Roan, kicking her feet under herself back and forth like a child, "See why these men are so wonderful."

Roan just blinked. "He discovered nothing."

"He discovered that a Staff Sergeant placed the device even despite my nephew's extremely powerful force presence," Apple summarized. "Now that is talent. Besides, the logs on Staff Sergeants coming aboard the ship during the personnel transfer can be searched for all names starting with a 'U'." She glanced at Mainframe, "Is that enough of a baseline for you?"

"It's a start, your highness," he said after a slight moment of consideration, "A very decent start."

"Splendid," the princess beamed clapping her hands together, only to wince at the pain elicited from the movement afterwards

"A Staff Sergeant is hardly a substantial rank," Roan clipped, "The man was obviously working under the orders of someone higher ranked." She sent a penetrating look at the general and one at the Dark Lord. "Someone with real power."

"The fact that it was discovered in General Hux's office, rules him out." Apple folded her hands in her lap, addressing the other woman's unspoken accusation.

"Just because a spy device was placed in his office doesn't mean that it was from the interloper in question," Roan reasoned, then narrowed her eyes at him, "He could've just as easily had the device planted in his own office for the sith to find, thus pointing the culpability from himself lest he was caught. So this hardly proves his innocence."

Rage widened Hux's eyes. "Never! My loyalty to the First Order is without question! This organization is the future of the universe, not some flawed alliance with a chaotic queen!" He strode towards her to jab his index finger at her, "You will answer for that false accusation, you and the rest of your miserable kind."

"Armitage," Apple called his name softly, snapping him from his fury.

He spun to her, facing a pair of tender blue eyes. Gaping his mouth a bit, he melted under her delicate gaze.

"Please," she implored demurely, placating him with her gentle voice, "Your honor and loyalty are well above reproach. No one that knows you would even consider such a baseless accusation."

Mollified, he jerked his uniform jacket straighter. "You are correct as always, your highness."

Kylo rolled his eyes, all but calling him an egotistical illegitimate-spawn.

Apple laid out the facts. "No real motive exists in this for General Hux." She brushed her bandage hands off her lap in a swiping motion, "Lady Roan isn't it reasonable to note that the general is a child of the Empire—His very culture argues against your theory. Also, the Queen's source would have ties of sorts or incentives based in the Hapes Consortium resources. The general has none. He is by all reason innocent."

She paused, taking a well-need breath and returned to the prior thread of debate, "As a matter of fact, Lady Roan, the spy device itself proves the esteemed general's innocence. And I will demonstrate that fact." She then addressed the darker twin, "Ru 2, open an audio-visual of the device's recordings over the past few weeks."

"Yes, ma'am," Mainframe plucked the bug from his brother's fingers.

Eyes bugging, Hux leapt into action, snatching the device to pop it abashedly in his palm. He chuckled nervously, features flushing up to his auburn roots, "Now, that's not necessary."

Apple grinned, "Point proven," she addressed Roan, "if he had been aware of the device, he wouldn't have a shade of embarrassment at the thought of revealing its contents." She nodded at Mainframe, "Thank you, Ru 2."

"Then the sith," Roan curled her lip with contempt, "He could have just as easily operated in cahoots with the evil queen. Sith are agents of darkness."

Apple tittered waving her hand down at her, "Now, now, complimenting my nephew is not going to substantiate your cause."

"The dark lord," Roan spat in an attempt to clarify her accusation, "could have easily placed the device—"

"Wrong again." Apple cut her off. "My nephew is very loyal to the dark side, enough to kill his own father for it. He follows the orders of his master the Supreme Leader, not some maniacal Queen."

Roan raised her eyebrows, shifting her position causing a nervous tinkling of her handcuffs. "The open destruction of five Republic worlds would argue for the insanity of such a leader."

"An act of war," Apple retorted, but a quavering in her tone reflected her disdain for planetary annihilation, "nothing more. My own imperial grandfather even ordered the abolishment of the rebel planet Alderaan for its treason. Are the Republic planets any different?"

Hux swallowed. Yes, from her trembling hands, he could easily ascertain her contempt for destroying planets even despite her defense of the men ordering the actions. She was a credit to her lineage.

"As for my most-loved nephew, he harbors a marked hatred for the Hapes Consortium, making your assumption hardly accurate," Apple said then added, "but if you require further proof, he has a sound alibi."

"No alibi could provide enough defense for such treachery," Roan narrowed her eyes.

"You are a fool," Kylo snickered, "Apple is my alibi. I have been with her the entire time."

"Except when I was in the shower with Armitage," the princess nodded with a smile, "but Kylo hardly even had the opportunity to place the device while we were in there… not even after the water turned on."

The Ru brothers immediately swiveled their heads to the general. That even perked Roan's attention.

Hux's face colored a darker shade of scarlet. "I was merely showing her how to operate the shower."

Their inquisitive expressions grew more riveted.

"Until it trapped us inside," Apple pressed the tips of her forefingers together.

Eyebrows lifted further at the general. He backpedaled, flushing until the back of his neck was even as red as his face.

"…And nearly ate us," the princess continued, entirely oblivious in her innocence.

The interest morphed into absurd confusion.

"Nothing happened!" Hux snapped at them, his shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

Kylo scoffed. "The Hapes harpie is just grasping at straws." He leaned back against the wall to fold his arms across his chest. "No one aboard this ship is a traitor." He closed his eyes in a stark cold manner that highly suggested that he didn't need his eyes open to strike them to their deaths, "I would have sensed their treachery from the first instant they betrayed the First Order." He opened his eyes sharply, "And their head would've been severed from their shoulders before they blinked."

Hux nodded. The surly _shavit_ had a point. He did have a reputation of terminating traitors within seconds of discovering them. Only one managed to escape and that was a technicality on the part of the soldier-molding system.

The general shifted his weight to his right heel, rotating his upper body to face Roan. "There is no incentive for anyone aboard my ship to negotiate with an unstable Queen when a firm annexation is moments away from establishment."

"No evidence stands towards their guilt." Apple retorted calmly, "but it does towards someone brazen enough to spy on a high ranking general. Someone else that would benefit from such an absurd alliance or perhaps even need it in order to gain power." She gripped the edge of the stand to tilt her upper body towards the men. "So whom ranks above you two? Or at least is in equitable standing?"

Hux made his way to the bar. "None that would perpetrate such treason." He grabbed another bottle of liquor. _Blast, he desperately needed another drink_.

"Are you sure?" Apple asked in such a matter that hinted she was playing devil's advocate.

The general paused and swirled on his heel bottle in hand to face her. "This is most certainly beneath the Supreme Leader Snoke." He snapped the top off the new bottle, "If he had desired an alliance with the Queen, he would have commanded it openly." About to pour himself a tumbler, he asked, "Anyone else like a glass?"

A resounding "No" echoed from the four force users.

"I would," Roan said in a tired voice, "if its not poisoned."

Hux scoffed, "I don't poison my own drinks." Exhausted, he hesitated to sniff the bottle before realizing what he was doing.

He contorted his features in a plethoric exasperation at his own distraction, taking it out on her. "Are you even old enough to drink?" He snipped. Pouring himself a tumbler full, Hux eyeballed the size of the glass wondering if he should sluice himself two cups instead of just one.

"She's twenty six," Mainframe answered for the prisoner matter-of-factly, "born on Daruvvia, in the northern vineyard regions, where her family owned and operated 32 of the main champagne and wine export facilities. Her mother is the Lady Ter'io and her father, which she shares with her single brother, was the second son of the Duchess Vai'm and Lady Ter'io's third consort before he was executed by the Queen in 25 ABY on Archais as…" He moistened his lips, "as an example for treason against the Queen Mother. Do you want the details of his death?"

About to put the drink to his lips, Hux stopped, eyes flitting to the man. "No, thank you. That was informative enough." He tipped his glass at the Lieutenant Commander, "Promote him again."

"Yes, sir," Ru replied not particularly enthusiastic about it, considering his darker twin was grinning from ear to ear.

"You two are excused," Hux lifted his glass at them, "And take the rest of the day off." He took a long drink, speaking into his glass, "By the Stars, you earned it."

The twins saluted him then bustled out of there.

Roan ignored their exit, eyes on Hux's drink. She licked her lips.

"Would you like a beverage?" Apple leaned down to her, "You do appear quite parched."

"Apple," Kylo massaged his temples irritatedly, hissing, "We don't offer prisoners beverages."

"Very well then," Apple waved her hand in a horizontal line. The hand cuffs whirred and fell off, indicator lights blinking out. "She's no longer a prisoner."

"Your highness!" Hux gasped.

"She's not going to hurt anybody," Apple swung her feet back and forth child-likely, "Her mission was to eliminate the Hapes operative and he is obviously not aboard this ship."

Roan rubbed her raw wrists, "The Shakal is accurate. I'm not here to broker petty fights with foreign men."

"See," Apple beamed. "Besides, everyone knows that my nephew here isn't even as forgiving as my father was if she were to attempt something."

A proud smile twitched at the edges of Kylo's lips.

Hux shrugged. He could accept that. Either he was at his leisure or too fatigued to tell the difference. At any rate, he wasn't interested in arguing the point any further.

The weary Hapes woman made her way over to the bar. "Anything strong?"

"Your definition of strong?" Hux replied, rather intrigued by her request.

"I don't want to remember the last eight hours."

 _Oh what the black moon_ , he thought and shoved a clear whiskey in front of her. "2ABY Mandalorian _Tihaar_. Known for wasting even wookies."

"Perfect," she snagged the bottle in a sliding grasp. Ignoring the glass he offered, she threw it back, putting a Mandalorian merc to shame. His eyes widened at the length of her chugging.

After a considerable amount of time, she ripped the bottle from her mouth with a loud gasp and pained grimace. "Now that could degrease an engine," she said in a gasping voice, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "Fermented fruit moonshine?"

Hux lifted his eyebrows impressed. "Backyard is the best."

"That's good hooch," she breathed, leaning luxuriously back against the bar, and took another throaty swig, "I'm…" she gasped at the acridness, finishing in a hissing sound, "relieved you're not a traitorous"—murmured some Hapan curse word, he'd never heard before— "scumbag because you have the best booze in the galaxy. And I…" she emphasized pridefully, "know my booze."

Hux struggled against a smile and pushed a bottle of a richly-dark malt towards her, "Try this one. _Lum_ —it has a frothy edge to it."

She went to throw it back, but he caught the bottle.

"Use a cup," he made a grossed face, "I'd prefer to avoid the alien backwash, if you don't mind."

"Priss."

"It's called hygiene." He poured her a glass. "Sanitation. Decorum. Take your pick."

"Thank you professor for the Basic vocabulary lesson," she commented in flat sarcasm then gulped the tumbler down, following it with a _Tihaar_ chaser.

"Good stuff," she arched her upper back onto her elbows on the bar, languidly, "I could die a happy woman with that purchase."

Hux chuckled, quite amused.

Kylo rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd hate to break up this quaint frenemies interlude, but we are leaving." He offered his hand to the princess, "Come, Apple."

Roan tipped the top of her bottle at him in a bobbing motion. "We have yet to determine the likely culprit. And I want the interloper's head on a spike."

Kylo supplied snarkily. "Do it on your own time." He snipped at his aunt, "Come Apple."

Obediently, the princess slipped off the side table and headed for him, hands outstretched before her blindly searching for any possible synthetic obstacles blocking her path.

Crossing towards her, Kylo took her hand to place it on his arm, whispering something unintelligible in her ear. She blushed then smiled tenderly.

Hux scowled, despising their closeness. He swallowed another mouthful of brandy. Such intimacy should be reserved for him and him alone.

Roan smirked at the general, "Didn't expect the Sith to wimp out so early in the game."

He snickered over his drink, nearly snorting some of it. Not bothered by the dark lord's increasingly dangerous expression, the young general threw another swig back, "He needs his beauty sleep."

Kylo stiffened, a deadly air increasing about him.

"You," Roan pointed her bottle at Hux emphasizing the fact, " _need_ your beauty sleep. But maybe after a few more of these," she chugged back a loud gulp, "you might just improve upon the eyes."

Hux snickered, not bothered in the least by her slurred comment, watching her rather amused as she nursed the _Tihaar_ bottle heartily.

"Come, general," she smiled chummily after gulping down nearly half the pint.

She paused in her thought to test the title as only an inebriated individual would, "General. General? I've never called a man that before." She gave him a tipsy once-over, "Yes, general, you do improve upon a pint's worth. Must admit a man that is in power is an intriguing dilemma. You appear not so stupid as most males. I'm sure you may have some sparse ideas as to whom is the collaborator, since the sith here has thrown in his saber."

"Kylo," Apple attempted to calm the angry dark lord.

"You want a name," the dark knight said steely, "Then how about his father."

Hux flared his nostrils. "My father was an imperial before you were born."

"The warlords then. I'm sure with effort you may ascertain as to which one," his tone cut the air icily. "Any number of them would benefit from spying on your replaceable hyde."

"The Knights of Ren," Hux threw back at him. "Perhaps one desires to usurp you."

No change of expression crossed the dark knight's stoney face. "Everyone desires my position, general," he emphasized on edge, "I will not deny that there are possibilities everywhere."

"In any governmental organization," Apple tugged her nephew away from the general and towards the door, "there are several agents trafficking information to outside bodies. But we can investigate this further… after sleep." She grimaced at Kylo's frosty hatred, "A lot of sleep."

"But this traitor forged a loyalty with the psychopathic Queen…" A cold rage entered his blue eyes as he forced the two of them to a firm halt, "Against our cause. Against you. Unforgivable." A dangerous shadow morphed his features. "When I discover this traitor, I will relish his slow and painful death at my hands."

"Ahhh…" She beamed gratefully up at him, "that was the sweetest thing you could have said to me. Have I told you lately how much I adore you?"

The dark expression quickly fleeted and a small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Apple glanced at Hux, "And now how are we to alleviate the pain that has been inflicted upon the innocent Hapan nobles?"

Hux rubbed his jaw considering and paced a few steps. "Of course, this will require delicate political handling."

"This affronts everything the First Order stands for," Kylo said fiercely. "We are to ensure order out of chaos—Not rely on political concessions to achieve our goals."

"And what do you suppose that we do in this instance?" Hux snapped.

"We tell the truth," Apple placed herself between the two glaring men, flashing a particular but tired smile, "All of it. And watch…" Her smile widened, "as all the droids fall into place."

Understanding perfectly well her full meaning, Hux lifted his tumbler to his lips, hiding his own pleased smile, "You truly are an imperial princess."


	37. Chapter 37

"She's pandering to them like… like a nursemaid?" Hux scowled, throwing his open hand at the image of sickbay before them. Rather his intoxication caused the motion to flail his hand upward and almost over his shoulder as he slightly staggered into the control console. "They don't need a pretty nursemaid. The medical techs should suffice." He whipped a metal flask out of his uniform's jacket to throw back a swig.

Kylo rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Apple's attempting to alleviate the delicate political situation. _Your_ ," he stressed, "delicate political situation."

He observed, mildly impressed at his aunt's powers of persuasion, "She has managed to assuage most of their," his visor turned to the viewer, "resentment at your interrogation. Except the one with a considerable amount of force— I can still sense his hate." The dark haired teenager glared back at the observation deck. "Her efforts have been substantial even despite her own fatigue."

"They are unworthy of her attentions." Hux contorted his face, despite his eyes trying to focus on the blurring green indicator lights on the console's code-board.

"Just an hour ago, you termed her actions towards them," Kylo reminded him simplistically hateful, "a political necessity."

"The necessity no longer exists," Hux glowered, "Now it is just supercilious."

Kylo rolled his eyes a second time. Why was he even reasoning with the drunkard? The dark knight had to admit that he was surprised that the general was still standing upright and was relatively coherent for all the alcohol he had consumed over the past several hours.

Lord Ren shifted his attention to the sickbay below. The tiny form of his aunt flitted from Hapes dignitary to the next. She patted a cloth to a man's bloodied lip, doting on the foreigners in her usual fashion of child-like mothering.

A small smile curled the corner of his mouth up. Prattling back and forth between the battered Hapes men, Apple tended to their injuries… Gentle as always.

The aft observation deck afforded them a better view of the activities in main sickbay than even the one that Kylo had destroyed a day before. And the effect? The more the other men's expressions softened at Apple, the more Hux appeared grated.

A dry smirk flit across Kylo's features, hidden wastefully behind his mask. The whole idea of her paying attention to the male dignitaries needled Hux, driving him to pace and sputter. That fact alone delighted the Knight of Ren.

On the other hand, Kylo remained largely unconcerned about his aunt's compassionate nature. Rather, he adored that absurdity about her. It did rack his nerves when she'd try to drag him into her philanthropies, but allowing her a few charitable causes didn't affront his tastes… much.

He watched her pat Fuo'stil's arm tenderly. The middle-aged prince nodded in response. The corner of Kylo's mouth turned up. Not distorted by false ideologies like his mother, Apple operated femininely in realms that suited the First Order's designs… and even promoted them. She had the prince placated in a moment.

Eyes following her movements, General Hux squirmed, face contorting into deeper degrees of jealousy. He kicked the command chair across the room, "But does she have to be so close to those ingrates?! Look at them! Watching her every movement." He eyed the way the princess padded about, voice softening, "her every graceful… soft… movement." He threw another swig back.

The dark mask slowly turned to him, fingers opening and closing over his lightsaber. A massive portion of him wanted Hux to keep talking, so he could have a reason to lob the man's head off.

One of the nobles crumpled onto the princess's shoulder, starting to bawl like an oversized infant. Huge sobs. Awkwardly, she patted the Hapan's back. She lifted her eyes to the observation deck, almost exasperated.

Hux practically threw his head back at the nauseatingly sweet scene with a loud groan. "Oh, come on!"

Kylo snickered at the bawling grown man. "Priceless. Simply priceless."

More of the Hapes men starting crying, sending Apple into a slightly panicked frenzy to attend to them all.

With a frustrated howl, Hux threw up his hands at the one-way wall. "And what's this now?!"

"Their time of the month," Kylo snarked dirtily, "Seems like they synchronized their hormones."

Hux swiveled his head to the dark knight with a frustratedly-confused expression, "Their what? Synchronized hormones? What are you even talking bout?"

Kylo laughed a sardonic sound, "It's so…sweet…" his gravelly voice dripped with cruel sarcasm, "…how innocent you are."

"I am far from innocent," Hux jabbed a defensive index finger at his colleague, "I am a man of the universe…" He cut himself off, finally realizing that his voice sounded both tight and slurred. He threw his hand down in a haphazard manner at the knight, "why am I even discussing this with you?"

He swung his torso back to watch the princess. "Now, what is she doing with the _mradhe mucks_?"

Kylo pushed away from the console, irritation rising. "She's still tending to their wounds and their emotional turmoils," he ground his teeth, struggling not to give into the temptation to murder the inebriated man, "as she has been for the past twenty minutes."

Dr. Wintlock strode into the observation room, eyes on his datapad. "The Hapes nationals are almost ready to be released."

"Thank the stars!" Hux burst relieved, throwing his head back and nearly bowing his upper back with the exaggerated motion. "Send them to their quarters, immediately."

"And what of the Hapes women?" The physician asked finally looking up from the medical files to scratch the scar on his cheek, "I thought they were to report here for physicals today."

Hux sent a look at the dark helmet whom hardly returned his glance.

"The princess arranged a sound punishment," the general explained then took a nervous drink.

"A punishment?" The scar lifted only a half-centimeter with Wintlock's arched eyebrow. "Dear heavens, you let the princess decide their punishment?"

Kylo snickered, "But of course."

—

Captain Phasma crossed her arms, looming over the two younger Hapes women. "Put your back into it, you weak slugs!"

Scrubbing one of the dirtiest bathroom floors in the history of bathroom floors with the tiniest of brushes, River gagged. "What do they feed these guys?"

The foul odor wafting from the stalls overpowered the disinfectants with a plentiful aroma of death and cabbage.

"Leu's Grease Pit slab sandwiches," Blaze managed to answer in between dry heaves, pulling a dripping and feces covered sandwich wrapper out of the nearest toilet. "Gross!"

Both ladies groaned.

"Those things leave a layer of grease on your intestines," River made a face, covering her nose with the back of her arm. "And don't get me started on the carbs!Gah!" She lifted her small brush, a string of gooey puke-and-urine-smelling greenish-brown mucus slung off it. "Ewwwwwe!"

"Ummm… Captain Phasma? Is the floor around the toilets supposed to be squishy?" Blaze asked as her gloved hand sunk a few inches into a brownish-grey sludge. She sniffed against her better judgment. "And reek like the inside of Hou-ki-lo pit."

"That's last night's dinner, sweetheart." Phasma's helmet leaned down to her condescendingly, "A few of my boys got upset stomaches and it… rather spilled over."

Blaze lifted her eyebrows with an impressed bob of her head. "Massive." She pealed a thick layer of gelatinous stench to wave it at her sister. It flubbed and flopped. "Look River. It's got chunks in it."

River started dry-heaving then catching her breath she squealed, "Please just shoot me!" She began crying, "Just shoot me! Pleeeease!"

Phasma laughed, a hoarse crackle through her mask's filter, "You, prissy-pampered-princesses may wish for death, but it will never," she emphasized, "come. There are six more decks of bathrooms, so perhaps instead of whining like sissies, you'll get back to scrubbing!"

The Captain spun on her heel to kick their cleaning bucket over, spilling its contents on them. The girls yelped and gagged.

Phasma snickered, "Oops. You missed a spot." She walked away laughing before barking, "Now get back to work! Before I make you clean these floors with your tongues."

The acapella of gags erupted again.

—

Dr. Wintlock choked on an amused chuckle. "And the eldest sister?"

He tapped his index finger against his datapad, cancelling the scheduled appointments for the ladies. The blue and red figures reflected on his features. "I assume I must reschedule her exam as well?"

"She's under guard in my office," Hux answered with a twisted smirk, "Passed out on my couch." He emptied his flask in a single gulp. Frowning, he turned the flask over bouncing it to make sure it was empty.

Wintlock's scar creased curiously on his forehead.

"She lasered herself with two bottles of my finest liquor," Hux grumbled tossing the flask aside and extracted another one from his pocket.

Throwing back a lengthy chug, he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and smirked, "Drank the harpy under the table." Shot a lofty look at the dark knight. "So much for the superior Hapes constitution."

A round of snickers erupted among them. Hux took another long drink, wobbling on his feet.

Wintlock frowned, "General, don't you think you've had enough to drink?"

Hux pointed his flask at the physician and an uncoordinated slashing manner, "No one tells me how much I can and cannot drink, doctor." He emptied the second-flask. "I have a strong constitution," he swayed, "I can hold my liquor."

"Sure you can, sir," the physician said far from convinced then added, "Would you like me to schedule Lady Roan's physical tomorrow… after she recovers from her… ahem.. hangover, sir?"

"That Hapes woman? She could drink," the general commented in a slight slurring manner, "Impressive. Such a beautiful creature," he warbled on, "Perfect figure. So tempting… so very tempting… But my heart belongs to…" he spewed his thoughts to Wintlock's horror and Kylo's increasing chagrin, "the princess. The angelic princess… I will marry the angelic princess instead of the sultry dark temptress. Beautiful temptress passed out on my couch. And I did nothing." He chortled wobbling with a dark smirk, "Too bad I am a gentleman."

"You are no gentleman," Kylo grit his teeth. "You're drunk."

Hux's heavy head swung inebriatedly to face him. He opened his mouth to speak but was losing that capability with every passing moment. "I'm not drunk." He countered then said, "The princess is mine. I will marry her," he smiled, staggering two steps to catch himself on the console, "yes, marry her." Completely drunk.

The Dark Knight opened and closed his hand over his lightsaber, ominous presence wafting off of him.

Eyes widening, Wintlock knew that sith look. He stepped forward, quickly changing the subject, "General, you should really get some sleep. The Supreme Leader will be expecting your report at 1800."

"Not until she sleeps," Hux returned his attention to the imager. He blinked his eyes as if the console's control lights blurred in front of him. He placed his hands on the control desk to lean his fatigued weight onto them. "And when she sleeps, I will sleep. Isn't my future bride perfect? An obedient angelic doll." He ran his fingers swayingly down the screen, its surface illuminated under his touch. "And our honeymoon…? That shall be recorded in history."

"Enough!" Kylo roared.

He threw out his hand. A dark wave of force slammed into the general flinging him back into the wall. With a loud thud, Hux's body dented the metal.

Kylo swiped his hand to the left, telekinetically throwing him into another wall. Another swipe and the general flung across the counter, breaking instruments with his face.

Wintlock grimaced at the nano-microscope bludgeoning the general's right eye. He glanced down at his data pad, reviewing the schedule. Hux's body flew back and forth into walls to finally stop midair. Unconscious and bleeding, Hux gasped, right arm twisted in an unnatural way. Blood pooled at his left knee. Face bloodied and starting to swell.

Kylo telekinetically held the general by his throat. He ignited his lightsaber in a swift motion, anger still unabated.

Dr. Wintlock sighed loudly, "Are you trying to make my work harder?"

The dark mask snapped to him, "Careful doctor," the gravelly-filtered voice held a steely edge, "My aunt may favor you, yet I do not."

"Obviously," the physician tossed the data pad on the counter, "but if the general dies, how will you account for it to the Supreme Leader?"

The lightsaber shut off and Hux's unconscious body collapsed to the metal floor. "I will tell the truth," Kylo spun on his heel, his cape swirling after him as he strode for the door, "He pissed me off."

Wintlock made his way over to the general to crouch down next to him. "You had to break his arm," Hux's unconscious body wheezed, "and his ribs, and I think you snapped his patella. He has a meeting with the Supreme Leader at 1800 hours. How am I supposed to fix this by then? No Bacta Tank in the universe can—"

"Well, doctor," Kylo sneered, "you have your work cut out for you." With that, he stalked out.

The seasoned physician watched the door hiss shut then glanced down at the broken image of his superior officer. He held his comm to his lips, "Officer down. Need a gurney in the observation deck. STAT." He flipped the communicator off with his thumb, "You brought this on yourself, sir," he told the unconscious man, "you really have got to stop drinking."

Three medics entered pushing a hover gurney. They gathered up the young general.

"Careful with his spine," Wintlock barked at them, "Hit him with an isotonic solution at 500 rate, add the synthetic pain cocktail on a backer, and make sure his vitals are stable before inserting him into the Bacta Tank."

"Yes, sir," the medics said in unison before they left.

Wintlock moved to follow them, but paused to glance back at the observation screen. Lord Ren appeared on the screen to drag the princess out of sickbay after him. She happily waved at the Hapes men on the way out then turned to chastise the dark knight.

Wintlock chuckled at her carefree attitude with the dark knight, "So she sensed his actions after all." He shook his head smiling, "If only there were more people with that affect on that monster."

A moment later, the princess had Lord Ren mollified with a pout, patting his arm. A deep set frown etched onto the physician's features, "It will not be good when he finds out that her true heritage."

Wintlock's frown deepened as Kylo smoothed a wild curl out of the princess's face, "Not good at all."

His communicator erupted. "Doctor, we need you. The general's vitals are… are not… normal sir. They're… they're… I don't know what to make of these readings."

"Blast it!" Wintlock grimaced, cursing under his breath. "Never mind that. Just proceed according to standards. I'll be there." He barked, white knuckled grip on his communicator, "And stop recording his diagnostics."

"But sir?!"

"I said, end the recordings! Do not under any circumstances record the general's vital signs." He shut off the communicator, cursing under his breath again. "Blast it all!" the imperial-trained physician squeezed the commlink in his fist tempted to throw it against the wall but against it. He had forgotten one important detail.

"I take that back," he strode towards the door, "it will be even worse, if _his_ true heritage is found out."


	38. Chapter 38

The laser shot echoed throughout sickbay. A ratty-faced medical tech crumpled to the ground, charred smoking hole in his chest.

"Anyone else insisting on recording the general's vital signs?" Dr. Wintlock asked over the barrel of his pistol. The tuft of ozone smoke swirled out of it's nozzle dangerously.

Men dropped their heads, some bowing to hide behind instrument panels. None dared look him in the eye.

"Good." The seasoned military physician shoved the laser pistol into a trooper's shocked hands then barked, "Now get back to work." He nodded at the deadman on his floor. "And clean that mess up!"

Staff scurried out of his way, trampling over each other. Two men placed the deceased tech on a gurney as the others hurriedly went back to their routine jobs of monitoring the medical instruments.

Dr. Wintlock made his way over to the center Bacta tank as his student physician weaved out of the flood of officers to fall into synch with his steps.

"Was that necessary?" Dr. Yeals asked blandly.

Wintlock shifted his eyes to the much younger man. No one else would have dared to confront him with such an inquiry… but Dr. Sander Yeals was a reputable medical academy graduate… one with high honors and top-notch brain for medicine. That and he was Wintlock's most favored protege. A stark-featured fellow with a thick-brow almost to the point of an unibrow and a firm square jaw on an otherwise thin face, Dr. Yeals had an unwavering character, a steady surgeon's hand, and an impeccable record.

In the old days of the Galactic Empire, resident physicians—or doctors in training—would enter strictly run residency programs to embark on a stark set of educational milestones generated by the Galactic Imperial Medical Academy Education Committee. Drudging through countless hours of no sleep and thousands of patients, the residents would work themselves into the ground to achieve Medical Academy Education Certificates, entitling them to work anywhere within the Empire. The entire process produced a generation of flawless medical professionals with impeccable skills.

Granted the older imperial residency programs distorted medical ethics as a derivative of imperial social structure or a stepping stone on which scientific advancements stomped. Thus some students took advantage of the downplayed ethics, specializing in medical torture and experimentation. Those careers paid well and afforded them commendable standing with the Sith class. Often Sith would choose them as their physicians seeing a raw cruelty as a trait of sheer intelligence.

But the times had drastically changed. The First Order couldn't afford to fund residency programs… gleaning what financial reserves it had into military exploits or building the original Starkiller. Such luxuries and medical specialties were put aside. So instead of laboring through structured residency programs, graduating physicians like Yeals, fought for the extraordinarily rare apprentice positions under the tutelage of first-rate attending physicians, such as Dr. Wintlock.

In fact, the spot as his apprentice was a highly sought after position, guaranteeing any younger doctor a first-rate education with the third-highest-ranking physician in the First Order, relatively amiable working hours, and most importantly…a chance to impress General Hux.

Dr. Yeals scored within the top first percentile in the organization, thus earning the spot without question. Granted, he was offered the position with Dr. De'iorleng— Snoke's personal physician—but Yeals turned it down, claiming the legendary doctor had the personality of a drone. Behind closed doors, Yeals admitted that Wintlock had been his role model since before medical school and he had always aspired to work with him. The man was fiercely loyal to his preceptor… and outside of the princess, the general, and Lord Ren, Yeals was the only one that the seasoned physician allowed to speak any scrupulous words.

Dr. Wintlock gave the young man a sidelong glance then returned his attention to the unconscious general in the Bacta tank before them. "Everything is necessary when protecting the structure of the First Order," he said after a moment, "Nothing else matters, not even life."

"A dualistic-ethics…" Yeals commented then snagged a cup of thick caffeinated beverage from a nearby console where he had left it earlier. "Mentally, I understand it quite succinctly. Socially…?"

He threw back a drink of the thick black sludge then wiped the caffeinated ooze from his upper lip with the dorsum of his hand. "I… believe the staff might someday revolt."

Wintlock surveyed the unconscious general's form floating in the bacta gelatinous liquid. "Perhaps," he half-admitted, and half-blew off the younger man's concern.

He changed the subject, pimping his apprentice, "Can a patient with a collapsed lung be placed in a bacta tank?"

"No," Yeals answered without hesitation, "The pressure of the respirator would alter the barometric pressure in the patient's good lung, thus diminishing the patient's overall tidal volume and the patient would suffocate."

"Correct."

"His vital signs were abnormal." Yeals returned to forbidden territory, "almost inhuman."

"Wouldn't that be expected in a case of apparent hemorrhagic shock?"

"No," Yeals pushed aside the bait, "Human vitals references remain within expected parameters even too death. Not only was his degree of tachycardia impossible to sustain by a human heart, his cardiac sounds were auscultated on the opposite side."

"Dextroardia," Wintlock replied, then added, "Situs inverus is a normal variant in humans."

"Not when combined with a sustained heart rate of 324 without physiological breakdown or cerebral stroke. In addition, he did have a tension pneumothorax which healed almost impossibly once he was stabilized," Yeals countered then spoke plainly, "How did he manage to hide this so long? His genetical abnormalities are unlike anything I have ever seen…"

He added further for clarification of his meaning, "Even in any of the species within the known First Order dominion or even within the New Republic. Not even the Chiss has that high of a heart rate, and they were exceptional for humanoid beings." He shook his closely shaved head, "And his body temperature? He should be bursting aneurysms."

"He never was sick," Wintlock conceded to the younger physician's original question, careful to make sure the other staff were out of hearing range.

The dull beeping of medical equipment drowned out his words perfectly. He continued, "Not a bruise. Not a common cold. Not a broken bone until now."

"But how did he evade it during the annual routine military processing checks?"

"He doesn't even know about his… condition. He never attempted to evade physicals." Wintlock observed the rapidly healing young man floating in bacta goo. "Careful medical planning by those that value his standing in the First Order prevented any…" He searched carefully for the appropriate statement, "…any privacy violations."

"If he doesn't even know—"

"We have orders to keep it that way."

"To keep the General in ignorance of his own… medical anomalies?" Yeals's monobrow shot to his dark hairline.

"Anomalies?" Wintlock finally pivoted to look at him directly, "If both his parents are humans without such anomalies then how did he come by them? And thus why would it be important for him to remain ignorant of such facts?"

Realization dawned on the younger doctor's face. "Good Imperial edicts! Impossible."

"Correct," Wintlock turned back to his patient, "And let's make sure it stays that way."

"You have my word," Yeals promised with a strong salute, "This is a secret I will take to my grave."

"It just might be," Wintlock explained, eyes forward on the general's vital signs, "And it would not be me that enforces it, but the Grand Admiral himself."

Yeals swallowed then nodded, "Dually noted."

Wintlock exhaled, "I am old, Dr. Yeals. I most likely will not be able to follow this young general's case throughout the remainder of his life." He gave his protege a direct and penetrating look, "he will need a physician, loyal to the First Order, and more than capable to attend to him in the future. I will recommend that you take over his care when I retire."

"Yes, sir," Yeals saluted him, "Without fail."

"It will also be your deepest secret that may carry on if he fathers children." Wintlock's expression softened, "The general has been like a son to me… His welfare is not only of the utmost importance to the First Order but to me as well. Do you understand, doctor?"

"Perfectly. It will be my honor, sir."

 *****I really haven't had much time for editing lately and I had written a different chapter to go before this one, but I wasn't fond of it so I had to start over and I wrote this one instead. There will be more coming soon... Please review. Thank you for reading.******


	39. Chapter 39

Dr. Wintlock rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Snatching a mister from the vestibule near him, he spritzed the moisturizing agent into his tired orbits and blinked rapidly at the momentary derangement of his vision. Exhaustion overcame him. Real exhaustion. The kind that only affected a man who knew too much and could share too little.

Mundane beeping from several monitors hummed in the background, coalescing with the healing pod's rhythmic expulsion of contaminated air particles. Healing pods weren't half as messy as Bacta tanks, but they hissed and sputtered all day long. Noisy in the silence.

The physician glanced at the young general. He laid unconscious in the pod, trapped in the throes of sedation. Personally, Dr. Wintlock would've preferred to have kept him longer in the Bacta tank —- be it an old school mentality— but Hux developed an allergic response to the Bacta itself. They had to swiftly remove him. After hours of epinephrine and antihistamine injections only a partial rash lingered on the young man's skin. That part was iatrogenic. The rest of the hot mess of his injuries was that young sith's handiwork.

Right side of General Hux's face remained a dark purple and yellow, eye swollen shut from the surrounding orbital fracture. His left eye fortunately was spared injury. It stayed gently closed in sedation. Metal bracers bore into his right arm, externally fixating the fractured elbow. Silver medication-impregnated linen sparkled in an illuminated pattern along his shoulders with his inhalations. The clinic gown opened in the center, revealing bruising over the right chest to his sternum.

Medical techs had shaved Hux's auburn hair close to his scalp, revealing bonded lacerations crisscrossing the right side of his head. And his left knee was braced in a sheet of pliable metallic alloy designed to externally fix his crushed patellar bone.

Easing his aching muscles back into the metallic chair near the pod, Dr. Wintlock watched over him. It wasn't a necessity for the head physician to continuously attend a patient, even an important one. Not even Snoke's personal physician would do so. It was a tech's job. Beneath a doctor. But Wintlock refused to move from that perch. Refused.

He had known that boy from the time he was two. Any other man in that pod… the aged physician's brow creased with concern the motion stretching his facial scar… And he would not have cared.

The bruising on Hux's face rapidly healed. And the doctor drew a sharp intake of breath. _Not again._

Wintlock shifted his attention to the time indicator. It occurred at an exact interval. To the nanosecond. The young general was so precise that even his healing bursts were on the clock.

Out of habit, Wintlock shot his eyes to the door. No one was coming. Yet, old habits died hard and he had secrets to maintain. Satisfied that no presences were coming, he removed his glove and reached into the pod.

Once his fingers touched the general's neck, the force slipped energy out of him and into his patient. Wintlock's third best kept secret—-hidden for decades even while he served the Empire—-He had the force. And not just any aspect of the force, he could heal with a single touch.

Typically, it was a good thing to slip in a little force healing here and there, but in General Hux's case, he had to do the opposite. Not necessarily trained in force techniques—his mother died when he was young during the first wave of Order 66— Wintlock still had learned from experience that force healing worked on two principles: give and take.

And the way to protect General Hux was to "take" from him. And contrary to what he had thought when he was younger, 'taking' was just as exhausting as 'giving.' Especially when the patient had supernatural healing mechanisms. In order to simulate the normal human healing process, the meticulous work was painstaking. And the delaying Hux's speedy healing process was exhausting. Everything had to be timed impeccably. No one was to suspect. Secrets had to be maintained.

Wintlock felt his strength sapping from him as he blocked the process at the cell layer. Turning slightly pale himself, he regulated his own breathing. Layer by layer. System by system. All of it had to be delayed to a more natural pace… a more human pace. As another wave of force slipped from his fingers into his patient, memories flooded his mind.

The image of the injured auburn haired man in the healing pod before him faded into that of a strawberry-blonde toddler.

 **19 YEARS PRIOR….**

"Fix him!" Commander Brendol Hux roared.

Wintlock torqued his upper body towards the man's children. The youngest, a curly-haired imp, ran in playful circles around his older brother's chair. The two were almost polar opposites.

The eldest sat stoically. A quiet boy, shoulders back and chin held up at the perfect military angle. He had high cheekbones and dark hair slicked back from his 9-year-old forehead. Almost an exact replica of the Grand Moff Tarkin, his great uncle. Cold for a child and much too silent.

His younger brother on the other hand was a happy cherub… A typical display of youth. Round red cheeks, bubbling giggles, and a head of curly reddish-blonde hair. The only strange thing about him was his eyes. When he paused to glance at you, the blue eyes stared straight through a man. That and he started snatching data pads off the counters to swiftly scan through them as if attempting to read them.

"Which one?" Dr. Wintlock inquired, eyebrows raised.

"The youngest, of course!" Their father snapped as if the answer was obvious to everyone, "Fix him!"

Surprised, Wintlock weighed his response carefully. Commander Brendol Hux was what even the most extreme of imperials labeled as "unhinged." He easily could have been diagnosed as narcissistic personality disorder and markedly bipolar. And then there also was the question of what the deranged parent meant by the word, 'fix.'

"Fix him?" Wintlock inquired calmly, his physician's demeanor taking full throttle, "In what manner are we referring?"

Blustering and apparently searching for words, Brendol Hux waved his gloved hand at the toddler, skin reddening until he burst with, "Everything! Just fix everything!"

"Everything?" Wintlock repeated. He lived in a field where even a single word had to be defined with precise accuracy in order to initiate correct treatment algorithms. "Please be more specific. The child appears functioning normal," he observed the boy curiously exploring the room full of child-like energy and vigor, "Interaction appropriate, musculoskeletal function within—"

"He's unnatural," Commander Hux cut him off sharply. His features contorted into a disgusted face as he again searched for a more in depth vocabulary, that he apparently lacked in regards to this situation. "An abomination."

"An abomination?" The doctor hardly covered his horror, "He's a two-year-old child, Commander." He measured the odds of him winning a conversation with a lunatic.

The scarlet haired man fidgeted with straightening his sleeves in several slapping motions, "It's the tremors…"

His scarred-eyebrow arched, "The boy has tremors?" Wintlock reached for his data pad, began typing in notes, "Armitage Hux, aged 2. Tremors. And what other symptoms has he been experiencing?"

 _Finally_ , he thought to himself, as he relaxed against the edge of his desk, _something he could measure._

"Not him…" The commander's voice faltered, "the house."

Wintlock stopped typing to stare half-annoyed at the man, "Come again?"

As if on cue, Armitage reached for a stack of data pads on the ebony counter above him, the consternation on his cherubic face reflecting in the cabinet's shiny surface. The stack and all the items around them, including Wintlock's favorite crystal award for surgical prowess wobbled, trembling. The items danced a jittering dance, the physician had seen several times before in his youth. A couple data pads flew towards the boy to bump into his uncoordinated chubby fingers and fall to the ground. He happily swooped them up.

"Telekinesis?" Wintlock gasped in realization then swung his upper body back towards the child's father, "He has the force. How did your son acquire the force trait? Neither one of you—"

"That's exactly what I want to know."

"You don't think…?" The seasoned physician took a step back in horror, sudden concern for the boy's mother, "…your wife…?"

"Absolutely not!" Hux roared then stomped back and forth past the length of the doctor's desk militantly, "He's a test-tube experiment, " he answered, then supplied a little more casually, "besides she's too intellectually inferior for that kind of intrigue. Beautiful woman," he smiled then shook his head, "but dumb as a box of cogs. And whom could she possibly even… " He paused thinking for a moment then finished with a lofty, "…There aren't even any filthy sorcerers alive for her to cavort with."

Wintlock early choked on that one and moved to pour himself a glass of citrus water, "Mmmmhh," The sound he made when he had no idea how to respond but wanted to smack someone silly.

Recovering quickly, he offered the commander a glass, "Would you like one, sir?" Words clipped with a hidden irritation.

Hux waved him off, and continued to pace. "I believed the experiment to be a success, until…" His words trailed.

"I wondered that you would experiment on your own children at all," the physician muttered under his breath against his glasses's rim.

Commander Hux stopped in a jolt and spun to face him. He pounded his fist into his palm. "I had him tested and there isn't a drop of those…" distasteful expression, "force particles… midichlorians in his body. Not one."

"If you had him tested, I wonder that you brought him to me." Dr. Wintlock reclined back against the counter to flex an straighten his right knee. It started its usual dull ache he got when someone said something stupid.

"Do you honestly think that I would waste my time in bringing him here, if that was all of the matter?!" Brendon Hux roared, slamming his hand down on the desk. "And bring him to you? I know of your embarrassing demotion, doctor."

Wintlock slowly straightened himself, ignoring the placard for medical excellence next to his elbow.

"Oh, yes," Commander Hux sneered, "I know the Imperial house stripped you of rank prior to the death of the Emperor. Your insubordination and defeat are no secret to me."

The seasoned physician's lip twitched laterally. But he didn't reply otherwise. There was nothing to say on the matter. Not to that man… at least.

"Do you think that I would bring my own son to a doctor that even the imperial medical community mocked?" Commander Hux continued the verbal assault. "It's beneath my dignity."

"Then why bring him to me at all?" Dr. Wintlock said more as a statement then a question then added levelly, "One would think that your _dignity_ ," he emphasized, "would abhor it to begin with."

The red-haired man moved his shoulders back slowly, moistening his lips pausing. It was a long pause. A long strained pause. And for a moment there, he opened his mouth looking about to confess something then snapped it shut into a tight line. Finally, he said, "There is more…"

"More?"

"More," Hux repeated.

"Commander," Wintlock's patience was wearing thin, "please you must elaborate," he needled, venom masked by a physician's demeanor, "a demoted and mocked medical professional such as myself needs a little extra information to go on than just the symptom of 'more.'"

It all came out in a barking breath of desperation, "There is no one else to trust with this!"

The sudden confession shocked both men.

"You have the sorcery trait as well," Commander Hux challenged him. "And you treated sorcerers the majority of your medical career."

Wintlock stiffened. But he didn't respond. His eyes formed scrutinizing slits. Hatred started to swell in his chest.

"Yes, I discovered why Lord Vader favored you," the commander explained further, raking his hands through his hair. It was an uncharacteristic desperate motion. "I discovered it and of course I would bring him here. Of course. Of course. Of course." He paced and paced rapidly, then finally stopped, "You are the only one that can treat your own kind."

"My own kind?" Wintlock's grip on his glass tightened enough to almost crack the glass.

"Wait one…" The Commander stopped stock still, cranking his neck in a creepily slow motion to glare at him. "You haven't by chance been near my wife?"

A peal of laughter broke through the doctor's reserve, before he could catch himself.

The Commander's face flushed to his red roots. "Are you mocking me? Are you mocking her beauty?"

"No," Wintlock composed himself, "Neither, sir. I haven't even looked at another woman since my wife."

Commander Hux was all astonishment. "I didn't know you were married."

"I'm widowed," Dr. Wintlock replied then explained coldly, "My wife and unborn child were murdered by an Inquisitor Sith years ago."

He felt part of the wind deflate out of him in the repeating of the tale, "My heart has never left my wife and," he lifted his eyes hatefully to the commander's face, "no other woman—no matter how beautiful— could tempt me from her memory."

Hux nodded, scratching the cleft in his chin. "I heard an off hand rumor that Lord Vader killed a sith for your revenge. Was that the one?"

Wintlock took a long drink of his citrus-flavored water then answered, "He owed me a favor, that's all."

Commander Hux narrowed his eyes for a moment then stretched his shoulders, visibly relaxing. "Understood." He changed the subject back to why he came, "My son's experiment somehow went wrong."

He paused, hands opening and closing into fists quite a few times before he continued. "The experiment went wrong…" His face shadowed finally betraying the fact that he was visibly upset, "Terribly wrong. My eldest boy was a genetic success…His experiment was a complete triumph. A genetically-enhanced soldier with the mind of his late great-uncle, but something went wrong with Armitage… very wrong," he said voice warbled then steadied into a sickened sneer, "That creature is not my son. He's a botched test."

He continued the overt criticism, "He's not trainable like my eldest. He questions everything… Everything! And then there are side effects. Several…" his eyes darted as if spoked, "side effects."

"Side effects?" Dr. Wintlock noted the other's man's sudden pallor.

"The tremors, the creepy moments when he appears dead but then talks about things that occurred in another room which he couldn't possibly have knowledge of…"

"Astroplaning?" Wintlock questioned.

"What?" His expression of confusion was almost laughable.

"Nevermind," the doctor waved his glass at him horizontally to brush the subject aside, "continue."

"The sudden fires. And then there is the eyes, they change—"

A little voice interrupted them, "What does 'curlicuous testicular implantation' mean?"

Holding a data pad in his hands, little Armitage looked up at them, a curiosity in his eyes. Other than a warble on the pronunciation, the question was remarkably sophisticated, even for a much much older child than him.

Wintlock gasped in awe. "Impressive. Your son's a genius."

"My eldest _is_ a success story." Commander Hux turned a freakishly proud grin on the doctor.

"Of course," Wintlock's scar twitched impatience growing since they were obviously talking about Armitage. One of his pet peeves was stupid people. Stupid species-prejudiced people.

"But I was referring to your youngest, Commander." He opened his hand at the child, "Only two-years old and the fact that he already can read is an achievement in itself, but here he just read a medical journal. Not to mention, his verbal skills include the ability to form complex grammatical inquiries. I would say that not all the side effects are unfortunate in his—"

The commander's smile instantly turned cold. "Intellect alone is nothing…" He stated, in a manner that hinted of anything but pride in his offspring, "Before even a month old, he began speaking. He knows four languages besides Basic now."

The physician's awe increased. "He's beyond even a genius."

"He's a monster," Commander Hux told him then snatched the data pad from the child snapping ruthlessly, "I have given you several orders… several!.. To never touch anything without my permission! If you were a soldier, you worthless dung, I'd have you executed for insubordination."

The little boy's bottom lip started to tremble and tears rolled down his round cheeks.

"What? You going to cry? You trying assuage me with your tears like your mother?" He barked then sneered, "Stop that infernal racket. Do you see your brother bawling like some sissy girl?"

"He's two years old," Wintlock countered in defense of the toddler, "They are prone to tears."

An unfatherly-contempt tightened the man's mien, "Weaknesses are to be snuffed out immediately." He shouted at his son, "Now shut up!"

He smacked him with the data pad. Thwack. Hard enough to knock the child to the ground. Armitage began to cry turning towards them with a nasty gash on his forehead. Blood oozed out the wound.

Wintlock made a step towards him, when Commander Hux caught his arm.

"Wait," the man commanded curtly, "And watch."

The large laceration healed within seconds, leaving only blood drying on the cherubic face. Armitage stopped crying and tottered to his feet.

"My word," the doctor gasped at loss for words, "Not even the force can heal that fast. He's a medical miracle."

"He's a mistake."

"A mistake?" Wintlock swung his head to face the scarlet haired man. "If all our soldiers were like him—"

Armitage glanced up at his father, eyes glowing an eery green, bottom lip quivering. And the data pad in his father's hand erupted in flames. The fire shot past the child's head, swooping in an almost impossible arch.

Commander Hux dropped the burning data pad in horror.

"Good stars!" Dr. Wintlock exclaimed at sprung into action to stomp out the flames. The data pad cracked and hissed. Smoke swirled up under his boot.

The little boy just watched the process of the flames snuffing out, without so much as a whimper.

"See…" Commander Hux said distortedly wiping his luckily-unscorched hand on his uniform, "a freak of nature."

"That," the doctor exhaled and straightened his jacket to calm himself, "is not associated with the force."

"Thought as much," Commander Hux shrugged, "but who was to say with force users, they could turn their own mothers into Furseiolen toads for all I know. This one…" He narrowed his eyes in disgust, "…tries to kill his family with fire."

Wintlock plastered a medically-professional expression on his face. "Even the powers of the force have limits, Commander. Fire is not within its scope of practice."

More items started to spark about the room.

Hux snapped his fingers at his older boy, "Cadet! His drink."

The older brother swiftly opened his rucksack to whip out a dark bottle. Popping the top, he handed it his sibling.

As the youngling nursed the bottle, the fires calmed down.

"What is in that bottle?" Wintlock squinted his eyes at the label, "It looks like a—"

"Beer," Commander Hux answered. "It's the only thing that works."

The child gulped it down after making a few grossed faces then passed out.

"Well, that's one way to…" Wintlock chose the word, carefully, "'fix' things."

"Yes. Fix him, doctor," Commander Hux ordered, "I don't care what tests you have to run or what you have to do to him to make him more… normal. Just do it."

"He's your son," Wintlock threw caution to the wind and tried to reason with the psychopath for the child's sake.

Commander Hux straightened himself and paced long strides, clasping his hands behind his back in a sudden perfunctory manner. "And one must start in one's own house in order to achieve supremacy." He took a few more strides then swiveled on his heel to face him, "I want you to run tests on the little anathema. Like I said before, I don't care what and I don't care how many. I want to know exactly what is wrong with him. And want it rectified." His eyes flashed a maniac glaze. He gripped at his red hair in fists, "No midichlorians and he's like… that?" He abandoned tearing at his hair to open his hand at the charred data pad.

"I will do what I can, sir." Dr. Wintlock sighed, relinquishing the fight.

"I don't care what you have to do, just fix him!" Commander Hux roared then flipped his head to his older son, "Come, first born!"

The dark haired boy obediently got up and the two of them left, not to return for a year.

 **ONE MONTH LATER…**

"He is mine!" Hux roared. "I will not have an impurity… a botched experiment attributed to my family! Run the tests again. I don't care how many you subject him to. Run them again!"

"The non-human DNA is a part of him," Wintlock attempted to assuage the beast. "There is nothing that can be done to change that."

"And what species is it?"

"Unknown, sir." Wintlock explained, straight-forwardly. "There are no records of such DNA markers in the current data-plex. Half of the imperial records were destroyed by the rebels. Nothing that remains can verify the type of species that has his haploid. It's not considered inferior these days to be of mixed species."

"So you're saying that my son is a half-breed?" The dark red flush extended into the man's hairline and his eyes bulged with rage.

"I'm only stating what has been found in the test results. He has an unknown humanoid DNA coding in his paternal haplogroup." Wintlock said through gritted teeth.

"Paternal?" Commander Hux blustered, anger building. " Are you saying this is in my genes?"

"No," Wintlock replied, matter-of-factly, "The fact that he has any resemblance to you at all," referring to the red tint to the boy's blonde hair, "is largely extra-generational. I don't know what kind of experiment you preformed in his creation but biologically, he is not your son."

Commander Hux sunk into a chair, obviously defeated. "So she was unfaithful."

"I didn't say that," Wintlock remonstrated, "your DNA exists in him."

Hux blinked a few times then finally looked at him. "What are you saying, doctor?"

"The unknown DNA has a strange dormancy to it. It recombined when you ran your experiment," he opened a hologram on his desk. It opened in the air before them revealing the helical strands of three different DNA.

"When Armitage was conceived so to speak…" Dr. Wintlock coughed into his fist and corrected himself, "created. The humanoid DNA had somehow been dormant in the system. Unknown as to where it came from or how it got there, but it was years prior…the telomeres on it have an unusual latent aspect to them. Its origin is still a mystery. But my assumption is that they had remained…" he chose a more lay person word, "slumbering for at 10 years prior to awakening in Armitage's creation."

"10 years?" Commander Hux shook his head. "That would have been before we were even married."

"Precisely." Wintlock agreed then further explained, moving his hand across the hologram, "Thus in the recombination during your son's experimental creation, they somehow awakened and combined again with his DNA."

Two different DNA helices separated and then combined to form another while two others separated and formed another new DNA helix. "I've seen this type of experimental result once before. Many years prior. The combination resulted in you being your son's grandfather instead of his father."

"How is that possible?"

"Typically, the process takes several sets of DNA to achieve, but in this case, the alien DNA replicated in such a manner as to produce a second set of parental haploid groupings." Wintlock began, moving the hologram again to repeat the process, but than upon noticing the dumbstruck look in the military man's eyes and the slackness of his shoulders, he decided to simplify things. The child definitely didn't get his intellect from the commander.

"You and your wife's DNA combined to form a third DNA structure. Typically that would result in a child. But your wife's DNA had somehow also combined with the alien DNA and that formed an additional DNA structure. Which would have been another child. But somehow those to newly formed DNA structures combined and formed the Armitage that you see before you. He technically is your grandson. Not your son."

"I have a half-alien grandson that's supposed to be my son?"

Wintlock bristled. "Theoretically—"

"And this non-human had the force?"

"No," Wintlock corrected him, "he—the alien was obviously a male—has natural abilities that are akin to the force, but without the midichlorians. Either the force has more to it than midichlorians or the humanoid species that's involved here has powers that are entirely individual to its own genetical makeup."

"I have a half-breed in the family," Commander Hux didn't bother hide his prejudice. "He'll never be accepted. A disgrace."

Wintlock bristled further.

"Technically, he is only one-eighth humanoid. The alien DNA in question had human mitochondrial DNA within it—that was distinct from your wife's and your mother's mitochondrial DNA—indicating that the alien had a human mother of his own."

"The boy's still not 100% pure!" Commander Hux shot out of his seat. "He needs to be 100% human! I will not have a half-breed in my home." He paced a few steps then turned to face the doctor, "I cannot thusly be disgraced. Terminate him."

Wintlock made his way to his supplies counter, with a superficially calm exterior. "No."

"No?" Commander Hux bobbled his upper body in disbelief, "Did you just blatantly refuse a direct order?"

Wintlock opened a drawer and extracted a few items onto the countertop, "I'm sorry Commander but my orders have just came from Grand Admiral Thrawn. The boy is not to be harmed."

Hux's ruddy face paled. "I thought the Grand Admiral was dead."

"That is an incorrect assumption," Wintlock replied simply.

The planes gave way to unbridled excitement. "Then the Empire will rise again!" Commander Hux grinned maniacally, clutching his fist in the air, "And the Republic will be crushed once and for all!"

Wintlock slowly mixed a few ingredients into a small sterile vial. "Of course," he replied distractedly measuring the clear liquids. He eyed the bevel of the solution then added another chemical compound. "But things take time. And the Grand Admiral must maintain a discreet anonymity for a while."

"Yes," the commander nodded, stroking his chin, "understandable. Very understandable."

He glanced up at at the doctor's back. "But how was he to know of the boy's matter?"

"I don't know, sir," Wintlock lied, continuing to mix the solutions in the vial, "I am not privy to such information." He added a serum to the liquid which turned it a harsh bronze color.

Hux bristled. "If I find out that you—"

"I don't reveal secrets, Commander," the imperial-trained physician quit mixing the vial and turned back to him with contempt.

Lips taut, Wintlock informed him, "I am a doctor, sir. Loyal to the late Emperor. Never have I revealed a patient's case to anyone… unless," he emphasized in a hiss, "commanded by a superior officer to do so, and _only_ ," he stressed again, "for the sole purpose of protecting the Empire."

Commander Hux sat back in his seat like a rusty droid, crushed and void of feeling. "Then the Grand Admiral contacted you first I suppose?"

"Yes," Dr. Wintlock answered.

"Why?" The seemingly ferocious and austere military man wilted before him. "Why would he be interested in my son?" Then a sudden glimmer of hope entered his eyes. "You don't think that—"

"It's not Chiss DNA." Wintlock answered his unspoken question, annihilating the other man's aspiration in an instant.

"Then why?"

"I didn't question the Grand Admiral, sir," the seasoned doctor stated coldly, then went back to inserting the solution into a dermal cylinder, "Perhaps, he reviews the quarterly intellectual testing results of the Arkanis Academy entrance exams for possible proteges."

Neither one of them bought that as the real answer, but Commander Hux apparently wasn't going to question him further on it. Any imperial worth their badges knew better than to litigate the inner workings of the Empire.

Dr. Wintlock would never tell even at the threat of death, and Commander Hux wasn't willing to inquire further into something that could get him executed. Although, an earnest interest reflected in his beady eyes concerning the Grand Admiral. Any military man would be curious. He was the Empire's last hope at that point. And for all intensive purposes, it had ben reported abroad that he was murdered in his own office by one of his own pets. Yet, he was still alive.

"Are you sure it was the Grand Admiral that contacted you?" Commander Hux went for it.

Wintlock gave him the look, "Truly, sir. Do you think me so devoid of imperial morale to ask me that?"

Brendon Hux swallowed his next retort, the remonstration effective enough to silence him on the subject.

"You had him take the entrance exams?" He asked instead.

"His reading level was that of an 18-year-old and his comprehension level of that of a middle schooler. With a few days of teaching him physics and biological sciences, I found that his capacity to learn supersedes that of even adults. While I was measuring the extent of your boy's cognitive achievements, Grand Admiral Thrawn contacted me over a secure channel asking to challenge the boy himself. He was quite impressed." The doctor smiled proudly, "Said that he had never seen a child that he was more impressed with. So he commanded that Armitage take the entrance exams."

"How well did he do?" The commander suddenly appeared excited.

"100th percentile…"

"On the four-year olds' entrance qualifier?"

"On the 12-year-old's entrance exam," Dr. Wintlock corrected him.

After a long hard pause, Commander Hux shook his head of it and drifted off to his own thoughts. "It doesn't matter. Intellectually superior or not: He's a half-breed."

Wintlock stiffened.

"Intelligence alone," Brendol continued relentlessly, "cannot make up for this mistake. His other non-human traits…? How will I hide this disgrace?"

"The force-like… uh… 'traits' can easily be discouraged given certain conditions," the seasoned physician tried to assuage him, "and we can enter him into the Academy's advanced track, which limits physical education to a bare minimum. I can write a physician's excuse that keeps him out of combined physical activities. Perhaps loyal tutors can be arranged for… he'll have to avoid all contact sports period… One cut and his secret will be discovered. Any physician would notice—"

Commander Hux snapped his head up. "Then you will be his personal doctor. Only you. The Grand Admiral obviously has given you precedence over this case."

Wintlock took a horrified step backwards, "But I am not a pediatrician."

"You will be transferred to Arkanis Academy effective immediately," Hux slapped his hands on his broad thighs with a decided grin.

He stood, "And the child will accompany you there. You will act as his escort.. on my orders… with my seal."

"Surely, the boy would want to see his mother before—"

"Out of the question!" The Commander bellowed.

A deep frown turned the corners of Wintlock's mouth down ward. "As you wish sir." Disdain hardened his expression, and curled his fingers into his palms. "As you wish."

Commander Hux shook his head then padded over to the observation deck. His boots clicked solemnly against the floor. He glanced down at Armitage through the one way transparent alloy.

The child played below with stacking holographic imagers. In instant the imagers erupted into a perfectly formed kaleidoscope of colors.

Commander Hux scowled at his invention, "It is curious… very curious that Grand Admiral Thrawn would get involved in the case of a single child."

"Some details," Wintlock put on a pair of surgical gloves, and grabbed dermal cylinder to shoot the solution into a single syringe, "are left to the discretion of our superiors."

"But in this case, it is odd," Commander Hux watched his son-slash-grandson create another device. "Very odd. It makes no logical sense."

"In the Empire, who can question the logic of our superiors?" Wintlock screwed on a sterile needle, uncapping it to flick the syringe with the back of his index finger, knocking a bubble of air to the surface.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Commander Hux surveyed his son, "Yes, true. Yet, something more underlines this inquiry. Something deeper. And the reason why must be profound enough for Grand Admiral Thrawn to become involved. Especially since he has kept the fact that he is actually alive hidden for so long."

"You are correct in your assumptions," Wintlock agreed, "but you, Commander," he made his way over to him to grab his shoulder, "will never know why." With that, he stabbed the needle into the back of the Brendol's neck.

The Commander attempted to struggle reaching back for him, but it was too late. The serum hissed inside and instantly took affect. The officer's movements became sluggish and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Contempt darkened Dr. Wintlock's features. "Yes, you will never know the answer to this mystery. Never!" He wanted to strangle the man. To strangle him until he ceased to breathe, but the doctor restrained his anger.

Brendon Hux crumpled back into the physician's arms.

Wintlock lowered him to the floor. He whispered harshly into his ear, "You will not remember anything about your son's genetics." He instructed , "You will forget everything discussed today. You will forget your son's abilities. You will forget his lineage. And you will forget even that Grand Admiral Thrawn lives."

His communicator beeped. He answered in a hushed breath, "It is done."

Grand Admiral Thrawn's voice replied, "Good. Reprogram him completely. He maybe a fool, but he is too valuable to replace."

"And the child?"

"I agree with the commander's idea of you accompanying him to Arkanis." Thrawn stated knowingly.

Dr. Wintlock closed his eyes. The Grand Admiral had been listening in on their conversation the entire time. A test of his loyalty. "As you wish."

"I hear a hesitation in your voice, doctor."

"Not a hesitation," Wintlock replied wearily, "but some doubt. These are a lot of hopes placed on a single child."

"The Supreme Leader sees a greatness in him," Grand Admiral Thrawn said calmly, "Besides, he New Republic Senate is already seeing the beginnings of dissolution: Our operatives have already inserted doubts about Princess Leia Organa Solo's background. Her Alderaan supporters have asked that she be stripped of title. The stage has been set. All is now as the Supreme Leader has foreseen it. He is greater in his vision then even the late Emperor…" His words trailed off with majestic awe.

Dr. Wintlock didn't respond. He had heard Thrawn mention the Supreme Leader before when he had first contacted him. Something inside him did hesitate that time… the very same something that affected him the night prior to his wife's death… A sense of impending doom.

"We shall be known as the First Order," the Grand Admiral announced the name of the secret society he ascribed to, which in the recent years had swiftly infiltrated the ranks of imperial supporters. "And that boy you have there, is the next generation of military leaders. I will see to his education personally."

"But if anyone was to suspect?"

"My dear brother," Grand Admiral Thrawn said with true affection, "I am now as altered as physically you are."

Out of habit, Dr. Wintlock glanced down at the back of his hand through the transparent surgical glove. His skin was a tannish brown… it had been like that for decades even despite being away from sunlight. The reflection of human eyes blinked back at him in the shiny floor next to the Commander's head. It had been a while since he had seen his original red eyes and pale blue skin reflected back at him… a very long while.

Grand Admiral continued as if hearing his thoughts, "From now on, I am no longer Thrawn; address me as Warlord Silvis."

"Warlord Silvis?" Wintlock postulated, "Didn't he—?"

"Die?" Thrawn laughed, "It was hard playing two different identities. So he had to fade into the background while I was myself. Now that I am dead, he can return to power. Remember my dear brother, if we are to succeed in the future, we are to eliminate all traces of the failed past."

"True." Dr. Wintlock closed his eyes, unable to imagine the process that Thrawn must have gone through to camouflage himself as Silvis.

As only half-Chiss, Wintlock had the advantage in the transformation process… superficial as it was, he didn't require yearly touch-ups… His mother had been a human jedi, a woman taken in by the Chiss and made a concubine of Thrawn's father.

He opened his eyes, repeating, "Very true."

 ******This is part one of three******

 **If you like it please send in a review, I really appreciate your comments.**


	40. Chapter 40

Antiseptics and robust cleaning solutions pickled the air. Affronted olfactory systems were ignored in favor of sterility. Or rather the medical personnel—nose-blind to harsh disinfectants—got a little too cleaning happy. Now Dr. Wintlock's eyes were humming red… and not because of his hidden Chiss heritage, but because of the disinfectants.

Blinking against the mild stinging, he surveyed the general's pod for signs of unnaturally-rapid healing. And there it was. Like clockwork. On the exact interval as all the times previous. His vitals started increasing to their humanoid rates. Much to the doctor's chagrin, Hux possessed the constitution of a Clawdite-changeling. His tendons were already reattaching in his right shoulder and left knee. The sealed wounds on his face and scalp were losing their purplish-erythema, turning back a fleshy color. For the love of the Empire! Couldn't the boy's permutation ever take a break?

Wintlock's scar twitched a few times, before he sighed in resignation. It was a lost cause to argue with the young man's biology. Just as it was a lost cause to argue with the general himself. The doctor reached into the pod to sap some of Hux's regeneration vitality.

Placing two fingers on the general's forehead and his ring finger on his cheek bone, Wintlock concentrated. The force slipped out of his patient in tenuous lineaments, taking an equal portion of Wintlock's energy with it. The healing stabilized. Hux's face paled and his vitals dropped.

Drained, Dr. Wintlock withdrew his hand as his shoulders sagged over the edge of the pod. A puff escaped his lips. The temptation to rest right there was immense.

Pushing away from the pod, he wiped sweat off his brow with the gap between his glove and his sleeve, careful not to touch his surgical glove against his skin. He stripped the gloves off and tossed them in the waste disposal bin. Keeping up with General Hux's regeneration abilities was killing him.

Even being born in the outer rim, he himself had never come across an alien species remotely similar the one that filled Armitage Hux's DNA. And after that day, he was beginning to curse the species. He glanced back at the unconscious general. The pod's lights reflected red and green across Hux's young features. Wintlock's expression softened. Over the years, he managed to watch him grow into a fine young man.

He turned towards the counter where the techs had folded the general's things. A flash of metal reflected light at its base. Squatting against protesting knees, the physician snatched the artifact to get a better look at it. He held it in his palm in disbelief. A small round image device from the later days of the empire. "I am astonished that you still carry this," he said to the man in the pod without turning his head. He curled it in his palm to tap his fist against his chin.

In that moment, a memory resurfaced.

 **7 YEARS AGO….ARKANIS ACADEMY**

"Healthy as expected," Dr. Wintlock typed into a 4-RS data pad then glanced up at the fourteen-year-old Armitage, "And top of your class yet another year."

The red-haired teenager pulled his cadet's uniform jacket back on in jerking motions. "My class are fools, doctor."

A solemn boy, he maintained a perfect and serious demeanor for such a young freckled face. If it wasn't for his stark mien, he could easily have been mistaken for a cherub.

"They're 6-years your senior," Wintlock reminded him, "there's a perfectly good reason—in that alone—for you to feel isolated from them, cadet."

The heterochromic blue eyes shifted to him. "I am not isolated from them," he corrected succinctly, "they have isolated themselves from me. They are intellectually inferior."

"Will your parents attend your graduation this spring?" Wintlock changed the subject.

Cadet Hux snapped his cufflinks on in crisp motions. "No."

"No?" The seasoned doctor nearly gasped, "Surely, your father would—"

"The Admiral and my mother will still be mourning my brother's death," the boy cut him off without a flinch in expression.

"You have my deepest condolences as always, but forgive me, your brother passed away two years ago," Wintlock watched the cadet fuss with shining the top of his left boot, "There is now much room for celebration of your successes."

"My brother was murdered. And not revenged." The cold and listless eyes focused on the physician.

A corner of Cadet Hux's mouth turned downwards. "So the mourning period will remain until the scourge that killed him has been eliminated."

With a shrug, he went back to dressing. "And what success? It is just a graduation," his eyes dropped downward in his first truly child-like expression, whispering, "or so I am told."

"You have achieved the highest scores of any graduating cadet since the academy was founded," the doctor informed him resolutely, "Not to mention that you are the youngest graduate in history… even from the days of the Empire."

Hux narrowed his eyes into slits as he buttoned up his uniform. "My curriculum remains incomplete in all physical arenas, or so the Admiral constantly reminds me." He finished his top button with sharp animosity.

"Doctor, if you don't remember… the Admiral forbade me from entering the physical education curriculum. He doesn't believe that I am worthy of such an honor. As far as he is concerned it is entirely because I am weak," he turned to face him, "and he didn't want me to embarrass him. My brother, on the other hand, graduated in honors in both physical and leadership courses. In that I am falling far behind, as the Admiral has made very clear to me today."

Dr. Wintlock tried a more equitable subject, "And your mother. Surely she will attend at least by transmission feed—"

"Sir, my father…" Hux squinted his eyes and jerked his face to the diagonal at his verbal slip then corrected himself, "the Admiral has forbade my mother from attending. He will not have her support a disappointment when my brother's mourning still is underway."

"A disappointment?" Wintlock nearly choked, "I don't care if you missed all the physical education courses together, your intellect still far supersedes that of all the other—"

"Intellect alone is nothing," he cut him off, by quoting the Admiral with a sharp bitter emphasis, "If it wasn't for the Admiral's wavers for my endurance and strength courses—he informs me—I would have most assuredly failed them. Like he has said countless times, intelligence alone is not a marker of perfection."

"You still call him by his title," Wintlock raised his eyebrow, creasing his scar, "and not father?"

"Until I earn the right to call him father," Hux explained sourly, clipping his consonants as if he hated them, "then he must remain as the Admiral to me."

He turned a power-hungry look on the physician. "But after graduation, he will no longer be able to call me Cadet: I will be a Lieutenant. How that will sting him. And someday, I will become a General."

"Not the path of the Navy like your father?"

"No," Cadet Hux took on a regal air of a man twenty years his senior, "I will take a greater path." His tone all but hinted of grinding his teeth, "I will command all the forces: the infantry, the artillery, the ships, the pilots," his tone took on a more chilling edge, "Everything will be under my control. Everything. And nothing will stand in my way. The Republic will bow before me, and they will pay." His expression darkened into a deadly hatred, "And pay dearly they shall."

"That will most certainly bring honor to your family," Wintlock redirected him.

The adolescent blinked and smiled with a blush that threatened his scarlet hairline with competition. "Yes, at that time, I will finally earn my keep and in that very day, the Admiral will be proud."

A smile crept up the corners of the teenager's mouth, "Then I will prove myself to everyone, especially the Admiral, and I may be permitted to return home," his voice wavered, "and see my mother."

"Your mother must miss you."

"I receive her messages…" the cadet explained slowly, "and next month, I'll be allowed to receive my annual live communication from her."

"Annual?"

Hux explained, "On Mother's Reckoning, I am permitted to speak with her next month. Once per annum," a grin flitted onto his mouth for a moment, "and after graduation, I'll talk with her whenever I choose. She is rather flighty though and may waste the allotted time asking about trivial things, such as whether I have eaten enough or if I am warm enough."

And the natural adolescent fourteen-year-old came out finally as he described his mother's communications, "She always fusses over the strangest things." He shook his head reminiscing, "I tell her every time: The academy provides sufficient nutrients for the cadets and I am kept at the correct ambient temperature at all times. But she still worries. I rather…" He chewed on his cheek, "like that about her."

"A beautiful woman," Wintlock complimented.

"Yes," Hux grinned, "The most beautiful. She visited last Mother's Reckoning, and even though, the Admiral forbade me from approaching her or from speaking to her in person, I could see the other cadets stewing in their envy. She glanced over at me and smiled. She even tried to wave until the Admiral slapped her hand down." He smiled like the young boy he really was, "I'm proud of how graceful and elegant she is."

"Only once per annum?" Wintlock blurted still horrified by the precept. He shook his head, "On Mother's Reckoning only? Not even on your birthday?"

"No. I receive a present instead," Hux explained, "The Admiral has logically explained that it is sufficient enough for a military trained officer."

"How come you never told me this until now?"

"Does it matter?"

Wintlock felt tempted to pace, but pacing would only complicate things. Instead he forced on a professional expression and inquired further, inwardly struck by the whole scenario, "I suppose there will be an exception this year at least that you may see your mother tonight."

"Why?" He straightened his uniform.

"Because it's your fourteenth birthday," Wintlock bobbed the data pad at the boy for emphasis, then argued further, "The year of your graduation! The year in every imperial man's life when he ventures out of childhood into manhood."

He dropped lividly in his office chair to swivel it to face the boy, "I imagine your parents —being well-versed in imperial court etiquette would of course throw you a coming of age celebration. That is political and appropriate tradition. Especially for a boy of such distinction as yourself." He reached for his communicator. "I might be of a mind to call your father and inquire about the details of such an engagement."

"No!" The boy reached out to stop him. "I…" He retracted his hand, steadying his manners, "It would not be wise for you to involve yourself in this matter, doctor. The Admiral has made it clear… there will be no celebration now or ever."

Wintlock withdrew his hand from his communicator. "Surely, they will not wish to miss this one, especially your mother. In her youth, she was so fond of imperial galas."

The cadet stiffened. "But," he murmured under his breath, "now, she is not fond of hiding the bruises." He turned his head away for a moment, speaking in a louder voice. "No. Such extravagances are not to be spared when my parents are still mourning my brother. As the Admiral has previously declared, live communication with home shall only be on Mother's reckoning…" his voice wavered as he repeated signifying his deep seated hurt, "Once per annum."

"I suppose he sent you the traditional birthday present then," Wintlock fought against a hateful scowl.

"Yes. This time it was a case of the finest Aborenth whisky," the boy beamed proudly, "My entire class envy the purchase of it," then he quoted his father, "As the Admiral says, A true soldier never works without such a fine bottle in hand."

Wintlock curled his fingers into his palms, forcing a physician's professional demeanor on his face. "You are still underage."

Cadet Hux shrugged. "Underage or not, doctor, it's the Admiral's gift to me. Rare are the occasions when a father and son may bond and it is over a pint of ale." A slight sadness reflected in the edges of his mien as he turned his face to the floor and traced a circle with the toe of his boot. "And every once in a while, he will seek to nurse a bottle of the finest with his only living son, even if I am not his favorite one."

Snapping himself out of a momentary lapse in emotion, Cadet Hux went for his duffel bag, rather exuberantly. "You were from the old empire, doctor. Perhaps you could help me identify someone," he reached his hand into the bag then glanced back warily over his shoulder, "if you promise not to tell the Admiral about her."

Dr. Wintlock chuckled. Every year, the boy asked some new question about the empire. And every year, he made him promise the exact same thing. The new part was the mention of a 'her.'

"You have always had that reassurance, Cadet Hux," he said, in a fatherly tone, "and have I failed you yet?"

Cadet Hux smiled. It was a bright smile. And it lasted only a second before he hid it behind a superior demeanor. "Not yet, but none can be too careful."

"Of course," Wintlock tipped his shoulders.

The doctor had come to enjoy these points in their patient-provider interaction. It became an expected ritual, so much so that the doctor deliberately blocked out a few hours after the boy's physicals for that purpose alone. The cadet would first make him promise and then the questions about the empire would begin.

The topics centered largely on cultural or historical significance seeking clarification of some historical fact or other. Some covered interpersonal relationships. One conversation when the boy was 10 years of age focused on the education system in the empire compared to that of the Republic. Last year's, was the oddest and indicated that he was growing up: Within the midst of several blushes, he asked about imperial girls… from a theoretical and sociological standpoint, of course, as he reminded the doctor several times during the conversation in a puffed perfunctory manner.

This time, Cadet Hux extracted a small antique image device from his bag to show him. "Tell me," he flipped it on to reveal a picture of a young girl his age, "who is she?"

The doctor froze. Even in the archaic blue of the hologram, he could make out her features clearly: the blonde long hair, the heart-shaped face, the twinkling eyes. The audio recording hadn't been started yet, but Wintlock didn't need to hear her speak to guess who she was.

Hux observed his face, eyes widening, "Then you do know her."

"Very little," the doctor lied. "But I can easily assume that is either the Imperial Princess Celestine or her daughter, Princess Apelaine."

Cadet Hux caressed the imager. "A princess of course." He wrenched his eyes from the imager to look at him directly, "How is it that she is not in the imperial records?"

"A lot of them were lost."

Hux scowled, the expression exaggerated the scattering of freckles on his nose. "Everyone knows that! But surely there would be at least some record of a princess."

"There were several princesses," Wintlock corrected him.

Arkanis Academy studies hardly included details on the feminine particulars of the imperial family.

A flicker of surprise struck the boy, but he pierced his lips for a moment before moistening them. He rubbed his thumb over the imager, "Yes, but which one is this. I am not concerned about the others." He turned the device on to run its recording.

 _"Oh, father!" The girlish image spouted happily then prattled on, "You wouldn't believe what I found. Po-li flowers." Her eyes brightened animatedly, "They say if you rub them together they will sing for you. Watch."_

"Oh, dear heavens," Wintlock recognized the flowers right away.

"Wait for it," Cadet Hux instructed with a knowing grin.

 _The girl lifted her hands and two of the ugliest flowers floated in the air before her. Petals rubbed against each other and static sparks ignited._

 _The princess's eyes popped open. "Uh oh!"_

 _She ducked. An explosion rocked the image, sending sparks and plant debris in all directions and shaking the camera. The smoke cleared._

Cadet Hux chuckled at the recording in his palm, as if anticipating.

 _A pair of feminine eyes slowly peered up into the camera's view. "Well…father…" The princess gingerly stood, hair smoking and soot on her face. "So maybe…" An abashedly guilty smile erupted on her young features, "those weren't exactly," she stressed the word, "Po'li flowers."_

 _The sound of lightsabers dying in the background along with aloud crashing sound._

 _She winced with a cheesy grin. And then glanced over her shoulder. Looking back at the camera, she flashed an even more guilty cheesy expression, "Father, you didn't really like that antique lightsaber display of yours, did you?"_

 _She glanced back behind her then back at the camera, speaking in a tiny voice, "Because I think the flowers…" whispered cryptically, "killed it."_

Cadet Hux burst out laughing.

Wintlock's expression went flat. "That is the Princess Apelaine. Definitely the Princess Apelaine."

Hux turned an amused and bright eyed expression on him, "There's more. It's some sort of series of short recorded messages to—" but cut himself off when the recording continued…

 _"Oh I so adore and miss you," she said, wearing a new dress and her hair entwined with ribbons in ornate braids, "Knowing that you are safe brings me happiness. Do you suppose we could see each other soon?"_

 _Her expression of heartfelt pleading turned into a puffed-cheeked miffed face in a matter of seconds. "Oh, I must tell you though. Vizier Verge is gross, gross, gross! Father, if you must know… he's creepy. I mean not Utapaun-creepy, but real Mandalorian-snails-slithering-on-your-toes-creepy…"_

 _She physically shuddered, "He actually has tried five times to hold my hand. Five times! You'll never know how many times I scrubbed that hand afterwards. I think I have eczema now!"_

 _She sighed, throwing her head back and scrunching up her shoulders as if anticipating her father's next response, "I know… I know. If I don't like him that much then I might as well have him killed in some dark alley," she recited an apparent paternal 'euphemism' as if she had heard it a thousand or more times, then continued, "But grandfather simply adores him. And you know how I feel about killing people…"_

 _She made a face, "It's gross. That's for you men to do. Besides," she brightened up with a delightful smile, "Starkiller threatened to chop him up into tiny pieces and electrocute the parts if he touched ever me again."_

 _Placing fingers at her lips, she paused thoughtfully, "Or was it electrocute him into tiny pieces and chop them into the toilet?" She grinned, "Meh, either way, that was rather sweet of him to say. See I told you! Starkiller and I were definitely meant to be friends."_

 _She waved her hand down at the camera, placatingly, "Yes, I know. I'm not supposed to talk about him over an open channel. But I'm happy you had him stay behind to watch over me. He's not too happy about it, though. He complains and sulks all day." She mimicked a man's voice rather pathetically, "Why do I have to watch over a little girl? I still can't build a saber in the dark. And why am I so blastedly hungry?!"_

 _She laughed, clutching her sides, "His complaints are too funny. But I," she emphasized proudly, "on the other hand, am benefiting quite nicely from his presence, since it keeps that nasty Vizier at bay. Verge actually runs when he sees him. So therefore, I," she pretended having a dubious sense of pompous pride, "in my exalted greatness, declare Starkiller my great protector."_

 _She cupped her hand to whisper conspiringly to the camera, "You should have seen his face when I told him that." She laughed, "He nearly took out a floor on the skyrise." She laughed harder, "My he has a temper. But anyway, I thank you for teaching him."_

Cadet Hux paused the recording, "Who is Starkiller?"

Wintlock rubbed his chin, "I am not sure. I have never heard that code name before, but my guess based on the description she gives concerning him, the is that he is perhaps a sith. But typically they would be referred to as Darth or have another knight's title. Starkiller as a stand alone name doesn't make sense."

"My assumption exactly," Hux nodded, then added, "But I do like the name."

"You might be interested to note that," Wintlock tipped his upper body towards the boy, "her father was Lord Darth Vader."

Cadet Hux drew himself back a step paling. "The sorcerer?"

"You could call him that if you want," Wintlock smoothed his hands on the desk then folded them, "but the Force is not sorcery as many used to believe. There is a distinct scientific basis for it."

Hux glanced back in awe at the recording, but instead of questioning the subject further as he usually would have, he instead flipped the hologram back on.

 _"Yes, Starkiller," she breathed, "has kept all the ill-favored beasts at bay, including Prince Xizor." She whispered into the camera, "I even got Starkiller to tell me about some of his top secret missions. Okay, I whined until he broke." Mischievous grin, "What can I say? I was bored and had him cornered. But I really don't want to talk about him or even that nasty Vizier, I want to talk about you… How much I adore and miss you!"_

The image shuddered with static, distorting it until another image came on.

 _"I thought I might tell you…" the princess said, dolefully. More graceful and poised, in another new dress with an ornate glittering headdress on her head. Cascading glowing pearls poured down the sides of her face, braided with ribbons wrapped around curls. "It is lonely without you. Yet, I am so proud of you and despite my loneliness for you—I wouldn't have it any other way."_

 _She smoothed out the fabric on of her embroidered and layered gown, making a tinkling of jewels, "I admire none other but you. I have heard that you have eradicated all the rebel jedi knights and even that traitor, Prince Xizor. The news reports state that the days of crime and subjugation are finalized. You make me so proud—I know that you constantly fight for our safety and welfare. I hear of the battles you have engaged in with the growing scourge they call the rebellion. And I'm sorry to hear what happened with Starkiller and the Deathstar."_

 _Eyes wide, she leaned towards the camera. "Be safe. I'm not too fond of your participation in the building of a third one."_

Cadet Hux paused the recording again to glance at the doctor, "I thought there were only two Death Stars."

"Two functional ones. After the first DeathStar was destroyed, there was another that immediately went into construction, but something happened aboard it and the project was abandoned." Wintlock shook his head, "I wasn't privy to any more information than that. It's creation was rumored to be even more secret then the other two Deathstars."

Hux seemed satisfied and turned the recording back on.

 _"Please come back to me," the princess pleaded with glistening eyes, "I couldn't bear losing you, and with," she shook her head with a gentle clinging of pearls, "the rebellion growing? I pray every day that you will come back to me. I know you intend to send me away… I am not blind, father: I constantly hear of the rebellion's atrocities: the bombings, the killing of countless good stormtroopers, the deaths of loyal citizens. The news are filled with it. We can't even turn off the imagers without it plaguing the datastream. I love you and fear for you. I hope this war will not keep us apart too long."_

 _Fussing with a strand of pearls circling from her headdress under her neck, she whispered timidly as in a detour in the message, "Grandfather has arranged that I meet with someone of the Hapes Consortium royal household. I am not given to know the details…" She paused turning her head away. "I am never given the details. But," she brightened, "I have improved my language skills. So you might be proud of me in that fact." Her mannerisms turned pleading again, "Oh, I wish you were here. You are the champion of the empire. No one will succeed against you."_

 _She reached for the camera, tenderly and lovingly. "No one is so powerful as you are. I believe in you and love you. Always… and forever."_

Dr. Wintlock watched as Hux mouthed the princess's words with her. Even despite the boy's photographic memory, it was apparent he had watched the recording countless times. And from the way his eyes focused on the princess… there was a reason why. The doctor just hoped that he could get the boy to realize it before it was too late.

Wintlock reached over and turned off the recording in the boy's palm. "Why do you keep this?"

"I don't know," Hux curled his fingers over the device and pulled it back to his chest. "It entertains me, I suppose. I watch it, analyzing the events she speaks of trying to piece together her world. And in return, every spare moment when I lose…perspective," he spoke the word in the manner most would have spoken about 'hope', then continued, "her words provide that… perspective."

"Is that all, cadet?"

The boy stirred uncomfortably then smiled at the device, brushing his fingers over it. "And she makes me laugh. It's as though she understands…" he confessed further, "what I am going through. As though she's speaking to me." A thrill rifled over the edges of his expression, "Just like me, she's all alone. Just like me, she wants the universe to be safe and in order. We have a lot in common."

The doctor knew that look. "Cadet, she is dead. She died before you were even born. She no longer exists in this universe."

"Not to me," Hux said, surprising the doctor, "I must know everything about her."

"Where did you manage to find it?" Wintlock asked to deliberately steer him away from that train of thought.

"On Mustafar during the field trip last year." Hux stuck the device in his uniform's breast pocket, "It was barely noticeable sticking out of the rubble. While the other cadets explored the part of the fortress that still stands, I searched the rubble. I would have missed it entirely," he said fondly touching his breast pocket, "had it not been for the light reflecting off it that caught my attention. It was fate that I found it. And now she is with me."

An adolescently romantic mien passed over his features. "She smiles so easily. The empire must have been much happier times for her to smile so carefree. In that I envy her."

Wintlock stretched himself back in his seat, smoothing the sole of his boot along the floor in the movement. "And why must you carry her likeness with you for an entire year?"

Hux postulated, curling his mouth to the side in a manner only a teenager could when unable to describe his feelings. "I don't know… she's pretty. Really pretty…" He looked at his mentor with large eyes, "Are all females this lovely? She's even prettier than my mother, and my mother is quite lovely."

"Like her mother Celestine, the Princess Apelaine was known for her exquisite beauty," the doctor admitted.

"And she's different. Happy, soft, ebullient… like a bubbling fountain," Hux described, "and she amuses me. She makes me laugh—" He cut himself off, faltering in his speech then said firmly, "To me, she's perfect. Perfect and glorious. A tribute to her family and to the Empire.. Just as a son—" he corrected himself quickly with a flush reddening his cheeks as ginger as his hair, "I mean, daughter should be."

"Yes…" Wintlock said, slowly. He went to pat the boy on his shoulder but hesitated, retracting his hand. "Some people don't recognize the true accomplishments that their children make. Others… on the other hand, can clearly see their potential and great value. Someday, you will bring the Republic to its knees. And like she once was, you will be the face of the new Empire."

Hux turned his blushing face to the ground. "Someday, I will make my father proud of me."

The teenager diverted the subject back to the princess, "I heard they kept her from home… kept her isolated. Hidden deep within the imperial court or on some nameless ship. Yet while everyone else around her crumbled in defeat, she pressed on—a true symbol of the power of the empire."

He jerked his shoulders in a hateful teenage shrug, "Until the rebels ruined everything and killed her."

Cadet Hux stared firmly at the doctor, a dark shadow crossing his features, "I will kill them. I will kill all of them… for the sake of the Empire and my family. I will avenge my brother. I will avenge her. And I will avenge all the wrongs the corrupt and base rebel-led Republic has done. We will regain that power again. I've promised the Admiral that I will bring the Empire back, and I will keep my promise. When I become a general then the Republic will suffer…" His blue eyes narrowed into deadly slits, "they will suffer a worse fate than Alderaan. I swear it. bring honor to my family with the deaths of the Republic. I will bring honor to her."

In his clenching his fists, he accidentally flipped on the recorder. The hologram of the princess laughing popped out for between his fingers.

 _"Oh, I know you will keep your promises," she giggled cheerful and sparkling, "I will see you again. And when I do, I…" she danced playfully at the camera, "will do everything I can to make you happy."_

Hux's expression softened instantly as he watched her. Adoration cleared the shadows of violence from his face. "See she speaks to me. Her smile is radiant…" he confessed forgetting his austere filter, "it makes me feel less…" He halted, features reddening again and quickly shut off the image.

"Less alone?" Wintlock answered for him.

Hux didn't reply, he just glanced down for a long moment then gathered his things. "Thank you, doctor. Until next year." With that he rushed out, blushing like a child caught in the throes of a crush.

 **The reference to Starkiller... comes from the Wookipedia regarding Darth Vader's secret apprentice Galen whom was code named Starkiller.**

 **There is more to this chapter, but it wouldn't fit. So I will have to submit it at a later time.**

 **I appreciate your continued support. Please write in your reviews and tell me what you are thinking- I love to hear it.**

 **Please forgive any typos or grammar errors, with the increase in my work load, I haven't had the time to dedicate to writing as I would like.**

 **Thanks again for reading.**


	41. Chapter 41

******This does have flashback in it, but it reverts back to present. Thank you for reading. Please forgive any typos or grammar errors.*******

 **2 YEARS PRIOR TO THE DESTRUCTION OF THE NEW REPUBLIC SENATE….**

"Just made General," Wintlock praised his patient, sincerely proud of him, "And at nineteen-years-old, no less. And I hear you have been given your own flagship. What is her name?"

"The _Finalizer_." General Hux exclaimed with a wide grin. He was now tall, a grown man with dark auburn hair and confidence flashing in his eyes. As though a new breadth had been breathed into him.

"Acquired her two weeks ago. A beautiful sight," he described animatedly, "A Resurgent-class Battlecruiser, unlike any other. Nearly 3,345 meters in length, over 400 meters longer than the previous designs," excitement fluttered across his features, "she has a large III-a1a primary hypermatter-annihilation reactor with several point-defense turrets, missile emplacements, and her her sheer fire power is…" He sighed happily, "astonishing really."

"And the personnel?"

"A complement of 22, 536 officers and 58,452 enlisted."

"Simply breathtaking," Dr. Wintlock pulled the electronic encased stethoscope from his neck. "You certainly have achieved your goals."

The young general's smile wavered then dropped. "Not all of them."

Wintlock's shoulders stiffened. Collectedly, he set his stethoscope aside to grab a reflex bit. Flipping the small neurostimulation square through his fingers, he paused a moment, then asked, "So your father…?"

"Was against my promotion," Hux answered his unspoken question sorely, "He argued for Major Man'jio." He spat venom, "saying that he had much more experience."

"And still the Supreme Leader chose you?"

"Warlord Silvas argued for my promotion," Hux leaned back against the counter and folded his arms, "yet, my own father—" He said spitefully, then shifted his eyes to watch the doctor's movements as he set up his instruments, "Yes, I will call that man 'father', though he deserves no such familial credit, especially deemed 'husband' in my mother's case."

"Your mother can hold her own," Wintlock smiled nostalgically, "There were days in her youth that she could take down even the Dark Honor Guard."

Hux chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "Now that I see her more often, I am quite privy to her fiery temper."

"A lovely woman."

"She used to take more than her fair share when I was in the academy," Hux explained, "But now that I am a general and out from under my father's thumb, she is now starting to speak her mind. And that temper," he whistled laughingly, "has taken on a whole new life of its own. The last time they fought, she punched him back a number of times and had him on the ground kicking the literal battleship right out of him before I could intervene. I had to nearly drag her off him." He laughed harder, "It was a sight to be seen. All those years came blasting out of her like a turbo canon. After it was all through, I nearly had to put his teeth in a bag for him."

"You took your time in pulling her off him, did you?" Wintlock grinned.

Hux laughed, "Quite. I had a few things on the data stream to check on beforehand of course."

Wintlock shook his head, highly entertained. "Yes, a general's work must always come first."

"Had I learned how to fight from her," Hux lifted his eyebrows and shook his head overtly amused himself, "then I wouldn't have needed to worry about not taking the physical education courses at the academy. And my father still calls her demure? Or else, he's afraid not to." His grin turned grim, "I wish she had put him several feet out into space. By the imperial flag, the universe knows that he deserved for how he's been to her over the past 18 years."

"Come," Wintlock put on a professional face for his patient's benefit, "have a seat. You know the drill by now. We'll start with your reflexes."

The young general removed his First Order uniform jacket to set it aside and sit onto the exam table. "It is good to see you again, doctor."

"Every year on the same day, like clockwork," Wintlock went to place the reflex bit on the general's brachioradialis tendon then stopped.

He gave the younger man a knowing look, "You have your own ship now, General, with its own pre-assigned medical crew.…" he shot a sideways glance at his patient as he applied the reflex bit to his arm, "headed by the famous Dr. Reyers if I'm not mistaken…" He wasn't because he knew Silvas assigned him.

The reflex bit tapped his tendon causing his reflex to react. Dr. Wintlock moved it to his wrist on his radialis, eyeing the general carefully, "I wonder that you took the trouble in coming all the way out here to the academy for your annual?"

Hux snorted. "That physician was blatantly incompetent," He glanced out the corner of his eyes at the doctor, "So the position has recently opened upon my ship the _Finalizer_ for a head physician. Preferably one withe imperial experience."

"Oh?" Wintlock's eyebrows shot up, stretching his scar. "Was Dr. Reyers forced to resign?"

"No," Hux said matter-of-factly, "Some young Sith—the Supreme Leader recruited—killed the incompetent sludge."

"A Sith?" Wintlock nearly choked. "Aboard your ship."

"He has his own Star Destroyer, but yes."

"Who?" Wintlock racked his brain for any names from the imperial days, thoughts fluttering over which of the lowly creatures could have survived the final purge.

He placed the reflex bit on Hux's patellar tendon, causing him to involuntarily kick. The same with the other leg.

"Lord Kylo Ren," Hux explained then snickered, "They call him a so-called Knight of Ren. He's the Supreme Leader's favorite pupil and," he sneered then his sneer morphed into a snicker, "the resistance General Organa-Solo's son."

"Upon my word!" Wintlock gasped, stepping a back a footfall, "Is he truly to be trusted? Can he possibly be loyal to the First Order with such an upbringing?"

"He's cruel, calculating, and temperamental," Hux listed then further revealed, "He massacred the resistance's only temple of budding Jedi. As far as Supreme Leader Snoke is concerned: A perfect addition to our cause."

"Careful with him," Wintlock warned, "Sith are dangerous and unsteady. He could very well become the death of you."

Hux waved a dismissive hand. "Not likely."

"Your reflexes are normal," he touched the man's throat, "Swallow for me."

Hux swallowed then said, "I suppose it is absurd to have him aboard. Entirely outside of the military hierarchy and yet he has full authority to control my troops?"

"Lord Vader had that advantage as well," Wintlock moved his fingertip scanner along side the young man's ears one at a time. A visual of his ear canals and tympanic membranes flashed on the screen. Healthy as expected. He flashed the scanner in from of his patient's pupils. Retinas were healthy without vessel engorgement.

He grabbed his stethoscope. "It caused quite the imperial upset with the navy." He placed the finger-tip scanner on the side of the man's throat getting a clear image into his throat and esophagus. He swiftly jerked his finger-tip scanner away lest the younger man see the alien anomalies there as well.

"I understand you have almost finished the development of a new Death Star-type weapon." It was a top secret subject, but the seasoned physician knew more than his fare share of military clandestine actives. And General Hux was no stranger to that fact.

"Yes," the young general unbuttoned his linen undershirt to allow the physician to listen to his heart, "The weapon is near completion, there are some minor details that need to be worked out, but the grand scheme is finished."

Dr. Wintlock moved aside the open collar of the younger man's linen shirt to place his electronic stethoscope on his bare chest and glanced sideways at the monitor. "I see it was named 'Starkiller.'" He watched the image of the atrial portion of the general's heart pump on the screen beside him.

Hux grinned devilishly, "You noticed my subtle hint."

Wintlock lifted his stethoscope off the man's chest to hear his response, then place it back over the pulmonic area. "That was for her sake, wasn't it?"

The right side of the young man's heart beat and pumped blood to his lungs as was expected… or rather, the programs had to be manipulated to give the appearance of a human heart rate and function. Hux's heart was far more complex then any normal human's.

The general hesitated, his heart beating more rapidly on the screen, "Everything is for her sake," he said like a man in love with a dream.

Wintlock avoided further conversation on that point. What was he to say to the young man? Four years and he still thought of the dead princess romantically. The child he fancied was dead, or else she was old enough to be his mother. Either way, it wasn't a healthy prospect.

Instead, the physician proceeded with Hux's physical in relative silence until he finished the exam.

"Your physical health is impeccable as always," he typed his fingers against the data pad's touch screen, "You can put your jacket on now, as I've marked you fit for duty. This time you have earned a two-year waiver."

"Two years?" Hux smirked then the proud smile disappeared into a strange contorted expression of disappointment, "Did the policy change from per annum?"

"After a soldier is 18 years old," the old physician explained, "physicals are required only every two years. You've grown up, general— You don't need a physician looking over you every year now."

"Of course," Hux nodded solemnly. A cold shadow covered his features. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Happy birthday," Wintlock filled in the silence.

"You remembered?"

"It's on your chart." With a wry look, Wintlock held up the data pad to the other man's disappointment, then added, "Every year, since you were 14, you have come in for physicals on your birthday."

He tapped the data pad against his hand, solemn himself. "Every year. And I must admit, I will miss our conversations, but you're no longer an academy cadet. And I am stationed here."

General Hux grabbed his uniform jacket. A small device flung out his pocket to bounce once upon the ground to the general's horror. It was the archaic imager. A grainy hologram of the princess popped out of its center.

 _"I simply love the one-horned flying pink furballs, father," the princess chattered on, "Can I have one? Pleeeeease! Or something just pink and furry… Pink furry and perfectly adorable. Or maybe: pink, furry, perfectly adorable and ever-so cuddly!" She hugged herself._

Wintlock bent to retrieve it, quickly shutting it off. He held it up. "You still carry this… after all these years?"

"It reminds me of what we are fighting for." Hux snatched the imager back, slightly irritated.

He paused to stroke it with his finger before setting on the table in front of him. "What I," he stressed, "am fighting for." He buttoned up his uniform's under shirt.

"But the princess is gone. She died well before you were even born," Wintlock remonstrated, then cleared his throat awkwardly, "You are of age to now consider…" He struggled to form the words, "…living female companions. Perhaps those from strong military families."

Hux glanced a sidelong look at the physician then went back to buttoning his top. "Now you sound like my father."

"Marriage is an important part of," Wintlock searched for appropriate words, "political gain."

"Not love?"

"Love is," Wintlock chuckled, "a part of it, yes."

Hux snatched his uniform's jacket to throw it on. He straightened his uniform, surveying his appearance in the mirror, "When the time comes for an alliance, I will seek one out," Hux finished his outer belt and snapped his cufflinks, "Until then, I have duties to the First Order that must come first."

He glanced down at the imager, reaching out to touch it gently. A static corrupted hologram of the princess flickered out of it a few times, demonstrating its age. "Duties that I wish she could see… I know I could make her proud and safe."

The young general reached an index finger for her face, distorting the image around his finger tip. "I would desire an alliance with her… any alliance."

"She is dead, General," Dr. Wintlock told him succinctly.

"Not to me." Hux returned to his a crisp decorum, snapping the ends of his jacket's sleeves. "In my ideal world, she lives. And I will bring the Empire back to her…or even to the very memory of her. Chaos will end as I bring order to the universe. We will see an age of civility and happiness, where pure and noble women like her will be safe. And it will start with the first blast of the Starkiller the moment it goes operational."

"A lot of lives may be lost under the firepower of the Starkiller," the doctor warned him, "The Republic might not go down so willingly."

"As many Republican lives as it takes," Hux replied with an almost maniacal glow in his eyes, "to crumble the Republic into oblivion. We will have our revenge and the Empire will be once more…. under the Supreme Leader just as it was under the Emperor."

He reached in his jacket's pocket to extract a flask of liquor, raising it. "To the destruction of the Republic and the dawn of the First Order's triumph." He threw a heady slug back then made a face at its acridness. "Good stuff. I would offer you some but I am not one for exchanging germs."

"Nor I."

Hux flashed him a lofty grin. "There are reasons why I like you, doctor."

Wintlock went to take the imager, "Are you sure you need this? It might be just a distraction in the future."

Hux snatched it up quickly before he could grab it. "It's my good luck charm."

"I wouldn't have guessed you for a man that uses charms for luck." Wintlock frowned at his patient's stubbornness.

"Triumph is triumph whether it comes by luck or pure ingenuity it is the same," Hux's stoic tone was purely dichotomous to his lofty grin.

The toothy smile melted away as he touched the imager against his lips, closing his eyes. "She is my inspiration. My muse. My one true companion." He slowly dragged the device against his bottom lip, then as if suddenly realizing his own candid folly, he jostled swiftly disclosing it in his jacket's breast pocket.

"General, I have known you several years now. Please tell me you are not in love with a dead imperial princess." He called him out on it.

"I don't know what love is," Hux stated firmly, "An abstract notion misrepresented in books."

"Then you are in love with her," Wintlock sighed, "This may result in a dangerous obsession. What you feel for her isn't real. She," he stressed, truly concerned for the boy, "is no longer real."

"To me," Hux grew angry as if the doctor had just insulted to love of his life, "she is more real than anyone."

"It is only the shadow of a dream." Wintlock countered his fantasy, determined to anchor him in reality. "The imperial court no longer exists. And neither does she. She disappeared when she was but sixteen. Only but moments before the Empire fell…" His face shadowed.

Hux's eyes widened, "You knew her, didn't you?"

"As did all court physicians."

His face lit with anticipation. "What was she like in person?"

Wintlock sighed, knowing full well he was about to feed the rancor, "Sweet, gentle, delicate. Happy, as you saw her in the recordings. And most of all petulant."

"Petulant?"

"Impish."

Hux didn't bother to hide his shock. "You must be exaggerating."

"No," Wintlock chuckled in remembering, "She was most certainly impish. Her royal highness used the force to explode the Imperial Advisors' hats during an universal broadcast. She never really liked that group."

"Impossible," Hux gasped then laughed despite himself, "She seemed too demure for such an absurd act…"

"She had her absurd moments… and a lot of them," Wintlock chuckled again then shook his head of it, "But it just demonstrates that you cannot go throughout your life obsessed with a past illusion. You must look instead to the future."

"The future can be molded from the past." Hux said, grabbing the remainder of his things, "I appreciate the counsel, doctor, but I will admire her as I see fit. Someday after the fall of the New Republic and the establishment of the Second Empire, I will find a companion like her. A part of me…" he stopped in his way towards the door, body stiffening, "feels as though someday… I will even," a strange expression flickered in his eyes as they shifted back and forth as if searching, "find her. I do love her," he said in realization, "I have loved her all these years."

The strangest thing was… that Dr. Wintlock felt like he believed him.

Hux shook his head of then saluted formally, "Thank you doctor, I will see you in two years."

Wintlock's lips twitched. "Wait," he said, knowing he was going to regret it.

Hux stopped to glance back over his shoulder as the doctor took a couple of determined strides to a locked wall panel.

"Since it is your birthday… I really shouldn't be contributing to your… distraction," he said the word choosing it instead of 'delusional obsession' and punched a code into the panel.

The security compartment opened, metal barriers folding back as a small box was pushed forward without the slightest mechanical noise. He extracted a small imager from it to spin it in his palm until he found the data strip he was looking for. Popping it from the device with his forefinger and thumb, he offered it to the general.

"What is it?" Hux examined the thin microchip.

"Add it to your old imager there," Wintlock directed, adding, "They are both from the same time period."

Hux dded it with a click, slipping the chip into one of the dockets. A new image of the princess erupted out of the device. New and undistorted by time.

 _"I hope this finds you in safety," she spoke directly to the camera._

 _She was older and slightly more serious. Her dress and hair angelically simple and flowing._

 _"I haven't much time, and perhaps when you receive this, I will already be gone. But," her eyes glistened with tears, "I must do something for you. Grandfather believes that the rebels will be crushed at Endor and has silenced me on the subject. But I know our forces will not win this time. I can feel it. Every time I close my eyes, I can see the trials… Good imperials set before rebel courts tried and executed for crimes, that I don't know if they even committed. Even doctors will not be immune."_

 _She stepped closer to the camera and set herself next to it so much that a generous close-up of her flawless face was visualized._

Hux took a sharp intake of breath, "She is even more beautiful than I imagined."

 _"By now, you may have noticed a demotion was filed against you. I am truly sorry," the regret furrowed her brow, "but it was the only thing that I could do to spare you from the onslaught that will shortly come. The complaint issued against you, argued for excessive compassion in terms of rebel insurgents and jedi. That should spare you."_

 _Her eyes flicked down, revealing long eyelashes, "I know it isn't true…" she shook her curls wretchedly pouting, "a horrible accusation! But it had to be said to protect you," she explained earnestly, "I had a dream that I needed to protect you. And perhaps, after all this is over. All these wars and crises we can be united again…" She teared up, "For we are family. You can not hide that fact from me anymore. I have always loved and cherished you. I see the strength you offer to others without seeking reward for yourself. You and my father are my true heroes. I have sent this by a trusted courier for I feel now even data streams have been infiltrated by the rebellion. He will give you instructions on where you will go next and to whom you are to give your conscription notices to. Don't trust anyone outside of the names I have enclosed to you."_

 _She turned to leave, reaching to shut off the camera but hesitated a strange look in her eyes. She moved back to the camera, "And one more thing, there will be a young boy in the future… lost and seemingly all alone. I feel strongly you are to help him. A little bit of love and kindness can change the universe."_

 _The princess's expression brightened, "And promise me that you'll eat three healthy meals, and don't skip out on tea, it's good for you. And keep yourself warm, I don't want you catching a cold." She pushed her face closer to make an epic stink face against the camera. "I'm watching you. Eat right."_

The recording end in a blip.

Hux glanced at the doctor. "Apparently, all women must enquire abut nutrition and physiological warmth."

Wintlock chuckled. "Yes, general, apparently so."

"By chance to whom was she speaking?" Hux cradled the device in his palm almost as though he meant to kiss it. "Another family member?"

"Who knows," the physician shrugged, giving the imager his back. It had been years since he had seen that message. He wiped his left eye, careful not to allow the general to witness the motion. "It is yours now. Good success in your endeavors, General."

"Thank you doctor," he clutched the device and pivoted to the door half in a daze.

"Perhaps we will see each other again in two years," Wintlock saluted him and made his way towards his office.

The young general paused at the door. "No… that will not do!"

Full of a new-found vigor, Hux spun on his heel to face the doctor, "I understand that you prefer the Arkanis Academy to life on a ship. But you are a first rate medical professional, and I trust none other."

The fury of the man's words struck the seasoned physician gaping silent.

"I don't want some second-rate quack as part of my command staff." Hux barked, sweeping out his arm in a sharp horizontal line, "No other will do for my flagship. The rest are worthless fools. None have half the intellect that you harbor in your tiniest finger."

He calmed his rant in a business-like manner, straightening himself along with his uniform, "I will request for your transfer to my ship today, if it is agreeable to you, doctor."

The corner of Wintlock's mouth twitched for a moment before erupting into a small smile. He was surprised that the general asked instead of ordering it. "Very agreeable, sir. Very agreeable."

Hux breathed, visibly relieved. "Then it will be done. Welcome to my service, doctor. I look forward to working with you," a small smile of his own tugged at the corner of his mouth, "as colleagues."

The physician's smile broadened. "The feeling is mutual, general. The feeling is mutual."

 **PRESENT DAY**

A familiar presence plucked him from his thoughts. He snapped his head to the door and shot a few steps away from the healing pod despite the nagging in his knees. "Your highness," he bowed the moment the little head of blonde curls poked through the doorway.

"Doctor!" She exclaimed, only pausing long enough for an officer to guide her into the room. A small entourage of officers followed, carrying a foldable table, some chairs and trays of various confections.

"What is this?" Wintlock's warning lights went off in his head. He couldn't possibly work with all these… 'extras' around.

"Tea and cakes," she answered, taking her hands from the dark haired officer's arm to reach for Wintlock. "I sense you have been working overtime. So I brought you sustenance."

The other officers bustled around them setting things as she took both Wintlock's hands. A warmth always accompanied her touch. Her expression soothed him.

She smiled tenderly, her seemingly blind eyes focusing on his face. "I have been worried about you," she confessed.

"I am not worthy of your concern, your highness," he flicked his eyes to the officers.

One placed a seat beside him. Hands firm on the cushioned chair's back as he gave the doctor a strong look, daring him to question the princess again.

A slightly intrigued-but-mischievous expression twisted the corners of her eyes into delighted crinkles as she regarded the officer then Dr. Wintlock. "Of course you are, doctor. What kind of princess would I be if I didn't concern myself for the man that takes care of the entire crew? Besides, you haven't eaten yet, so I," she emphasized impishly, "have decided to feed you."

"I appreciate your attentions, your highness," Dr. Wintlock bowed a tinge over her hands, "but I am well enough on my own." His formality felt forced even to himself.

"Sure you are," she replied far from convinced.

A tall-broad shouldered officer placed another ornate chair beside her. It's clawed feet gripped the metal floor with magnetic-hastenings in a faint sucking sound. He patted its seat, wiping for possible wrinkles or dust and then covered it with a lace overlay, taking special attention to the ribbon details. A dark bruise covered his left eye and a small cut crossed the bridge of his nose.

Wintlock raised an eyebrow at the man, ignoring the others setting up the table beside him. "One of the Hapan nobles? Already in First Order employment?" He doubted an officer from that Star Destroyer would pay that much fuss over beautifying a chair for the princess to sit upon.

Apple turned toward the noble and thanked him in Hapan. He bowed to her then backed away careful not to give her his back. Then he moved to make sure the lace linen table cloth was smoothed out before the trays were set. She smiled back at the doctor, "The Hapans are integrating superbly."

The Hapes man tugged and fussed at his First Order uniform, obviously uncomfortable in the fabric. The others just shot each other weirded-out looks when he practically lunged forward just to rearrange the tea settings, taking special care to plump the ribbons on the napkins and tea cozy.

"Now," Wintlock returned her humorous grin with one of her own, "I know, your highness has truly perjured herself."

"His sisters are my ladies-in-waiting," she informed the doctor conspiringly, "so he's a little fastidious about making things look…" she searched for an appropriate phrasing, "…femininely pleasing." She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth, whispering, "I personally believe his sisters beat that into him."

"I understand Hapes women can be… quite forceful in their… ahem…" Wintlock stifled a chuckle, "ideals."

With a quick look at the nobleman, she leaned closer, "His oldest sister has already put Captain Phasma's record of… uh… male-parts strikes to shame."

"Male parts strikes?" The scarred eyebrow raised.

Apple's face reddened slightly. Perplexed, she wrung her hands for a moment before replying out the side of her mouth, "You know…" She lifted her knee rather sharply for non-verbal explanation. And pointed downwards. "Male-parts strikes."

He bobbed his head and raised his eyebrows in recognition of her discreet meaning.

"A whole deck of troopers are currently…" she shifted her weight and smoothed her hands along the outsides of her arms obviously uncomfortable, "on ice."

Dr. Wintlock straightened himself. "So that is where half my staff were called to." He had been so concerned in maintaining Hux's homeostasis, that he hadn't bothered to enquire into medical technician's on-site call.

"They even called me to help heal them," she made a face and rapidly shook her head, shoulders scrunched up to her ears, "but no way was I healing that area."

Wintlock threw his head back with a loud laugh. "Obviously not." He stifled his guffaw and inquired, "And pray tell, whom was it that called you in the first place?"

"Lieutenant Commander Ru," she answered, swaying her her hips like a child about to tattle, "he thinks I can do anything." She withdrew her head with a ick-face puckered expression, "But nuh uh! I am not going anywhere near that!"

"Of course," he agreed with a slight twitch of his mouth wobbling upward in good humor, "And I suppose the… ah attacks were warranted?"

The princess's shoulders crept again near her ears as she twisted her fingers struggling to explain the situation more delicately than it deserved. "Well… apparently, the uh.. gentlemen tried to use the latrines while ah… Lady Roan was cleaning them."

Apple verbally rushed to defend the soldiers, "I blame the armor! It's such an impracticality that they just—"

She cut herself off, uncomfortable at the telling and swallowed before continuing, "I guess when stormtroopers have got to go, they," she emphasized with a raised-eyebrow serious expression, "have got to go…"—major grimace— "no matter whom is around."

"Oh?" He made more of a listening sound than a question.

"Oh yes. And because of it, Lady Roan took a toilet brush to their…" She non-verbally finished by pointing downwards at the general vicinity of one's private parts.

She politically altered her explanation with a strained smile, "Needless to say, my lady-in-waiting beat 42 men into full-blown soprano-mode with a toilet brush and plunger," her eyes widened, "And in one day, no less."

A proper tip of her chin and sniff colored the remainder of her statement, "I was simplify mortified that my very own lady-in-waiting would do such a thing, but my nephew Kylo was so incandescently diverted by the whole ordeal that he couldn't stop laughing. He kept repeating over and over, 'Impressive' in between laughs." Her eyes widened further, "42 men, doctor. With a toilet brush and a plunger. Can you believe it?"

Wintlock bit down on a bark of his own laughter. "Yes, your highness…" He attempted to force on a professional mien, "that truly is a record for any woman with a plunger."

"And a toilet brush."

The other officers chuckled.

"Well…" She looked rather indignant, "I'll say. And it just proves how faulty that armor is. Can't even withstand a toilet brush wielded by a woman. That should be reported to the manufacturer!"

"Your highness," Wintlock found the situation even more amusing, "I imagine that the armor was not in the range of her swings at those particular moments."

The princess's face blushed further with a gasp, "Emperor forbid!"

Taking on one of her tangents, she drifted from the subject to glance around the room blindly, "Now how is your patient?"

"You have asked that overtime you have visited here," he informed her, "and my answer is always the same: 'I can't divulge that information.'"

"Yes…" she said padding towards the healing pod, flashing him a teasing grin over her shoulder, "but when has that ever stopped me."

He dropped his head with a sigh, "Never, your highness. Never."

 *****Thank you for reading. Please send in reviews and favorite me, if you like this story. I wanted to give some sort of background for General Hux. After this I am going to shift more to the Hapes ladies and the rest of the crew... or rather once I post the remainder of this scene. Thanks again for reading *******


	42. Chapter 42

"He's still alive," Kylo replied, far from repentant.

Snoke's scar twitched upward. "I assume barely."

Kylo wasn't sure how to answer that one, then said in a measured manner, "He's recovering in the infirmary as we speak."

"As a Master of Ren, discretion is paramount," Snoke explained coldly then his tone clipped with calamitous warning, "You are a fool if you let the impulse of the moment destroy any chance of future successes! You know full well my intentions for General Hux—and you nearly ruined everything because of a few misspoken words!"

The power of his anger ricocheted across the galaxy even from lightyears away.

Kylo flinched as the wave of it passed through his marrow, rippling outward in its fury.

"I have expressly forbidden you from harming him!" His master roared but in such level voice that the icy rage behind it could be felt rather than heard, "That general is essential to our military campaigns. To our destiny!"

"He is a drunk fool!" the dark knight countered, swiping his arm to the side, "And it was one of his so-called perfected stormtroopers whom singularily brought the destruction of the Starkiller!"

Snoke curled and uncurled his long boney fingers on his knees. Even through the transmission filters, the young knight could hear the joints cracking sinisterly.

Determined, Kylo ranted further, "That evidence alone makes Hux responsible for every loss the First Order has sustained since that very moment! He should have been punished earlier for the monumental failure. I only brought down upon him what he justly deserved!"

A long moment of silence followed. His master often waited for him to exhaust his arguments before responding, unless the matter was pressing in which case the act in question was already done. Instead, the scars on his forehead and jawline drew inward with his calculating breaths.

Finally he spoke, "You hardly escaped that offensive alive yourself and even let the map to your uncle slip through your fingers! Wouldn't that be deemed as a supernal failure as well?"

He let those malevolent words sink in a moment before pensively continuing, "Should I punish your _failure_ in equanimity with his?"

Kylo jerked his upper body back from the hologram then turned his helmet the side to avoid his master's condescending glance. "I hadn't expected the Jakku girl to be so powerful in the force."

"Just like he didn't anticipate the mental imperfections of one stormtrooper among thousands," the Supreme Leader countered then leaned way down towards his much smaller apprentice, "This time I will allow it. But if this failure," he stressed forebodingly, "to check your impulses with reason repeats again, I will not be so forgiving the next time."

"Yes, master," Kylo dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

Snoke's expression softened… or rather took on a ghoulish fatherly countenance, "Your hatred must be well applied, my young apprentice."

The dark knight kept his head turned down, one fist saluting him against his chest and the other knuckling the floor.

"The line between rage and shirking your duty cannot be blurred even for one moment," his master explained in a ominous serene voice, "Every movement must be calculated with preciseness. Obedience and loyalty must be to dark side always!"

His tone tempered marginally, "You are young and inexperienced. Even as the Master of the Knights of Ren, your training is not yet complete."

"Teach me," Kylo pleaded, "Teach me to be like my grandfather! And I will serve you well, master!"

"Lord Vader was the chosen one," Snoke pointed out flippantly, "He balanced the Force, tearing down the establishment of the jedi and reducing its numbers to but two. Now," he paused eyebrows lifted in calculating efficacy, then continued smoothly, "you are the next generation of dark justice. You will lay waste to all those that stand in the way of darkness and establish its reign forever."

Kylo kept his eyes to the ground. "Yes, master."

"You hold no fault in exerting your deepest and deadliest emotions," Snoke maintained levelly as if verbally patting him on the head, "but careful strategy must always be applied."

He continued in a lulling tone, "Weigh the consequences against our greater plans, my young apprentice. General Hux is useful in campaigns against your mother and others whom would attempt to thwart our advances. His talents should not be impulsively wasted. You must judge more wisely whom you will eradicate at will and whom you shall momentarily spare until their usefulness is spent."

"Yes, master," Kylo felt his blood boil with excitement, his master's words moving his darkest sentiments.

"Like your Aunt," Snoke said suddenly.

Kylo stiffened. "My aunt?" He snapped his head upwards, "what has she to do with this matter?"

"As an example of our absolute power, she may be only necessary until her usefulness is spent, then you will do what you must do," the Supreme Leader told him dispiritingly matter-of-fact.

"But she is loyal to the dark side!" Kylo nearly shot to his feet but resisted the temptation.

"Is she now?" Snoke appeared almost amused. Almost.

"Always!" Kylo protested his master's meaning, "Loyal to her father—my grandfather," he stumbled to clarify, "Loyal to Darth Vader. The darkside—"

"And what about to her grandfather, the emperor? Whom killed his own master, the man whom trained him everything he knew… while he slept?" The sinisterly pensive expression was just too much.

Kylo moistened his lips. He hadn't known that detail about Palpatine. "She is not the emperor. She is more…" He searched for the right words. Images of her smiling and laughing… and pouting, "of a girl," was all he could come up with.

"Like the Jakku girl," Snoke was baiting him.

"No," Kylo said slowly, "different." He jostled his shoulders, searching for an appeasing argument.

"She is not a supporter of the light side," he explained carefully, "She doesn't even know it exists. She quotes the teachings of Sith—"

"Which ones?" Snoke inquired, rustling the edges of his black cowl with a morose movement, "Which Sith does she speak of?"

Mind reeling, Kylo racked his brain for swift answers. "Her father and Darth Plagueis."

"Plagueis?!" Snoke nearly choked, "And what has the child ascribed to him?"

"Scientific explorations of," Kylo moved his head side to side, surprised that the conversation had taken such a turn, "midichlorians and how to manipulate them in order to alter time and space, and even prevent death."  
"Well…" The Supreme Leader smoothed his skeleton-like hands on his thighs, "…those things were also known to be quoted by her own grandfather. Wasn't she a product of the Emperor's experimentations with midicholrian manipulations."

He smirked hatefully, "Ahh I remember now, I believe it was: 'how ironic it was that Plagueis could keep others from death but not himself' was the exact quote from Sidious I believe."

"Except Apple argued for Plagueis, not against him," Kylo countered then snorted a sardonic laugh, "She called him 'romantic,' for developing force techniques to keep his loved ones alive. She quoted his works, relaying that she had read everything Vader had secretly collected of his. I believe she sympathizes with him over the emperor."

An indiscernible expression shadowed the ancient Muun's scarred features. "Is that so?"

"From what I can perceive," Kylo thought for a moment, "Yes. She mentioned him and a Darth named Revan as the romantic heroes of Sith lore."

"Romantic heroes?" Snoke barked a mirthless laugh that shook the edges of his scars, and vibrated his sunken in hallow cheeks. "Darth Revan and Plagueis? The most opposite of all sith masters."

Kylo squirmed slightly inside his helmet, "She is a young girl full of romantic notions. Naive for the most part. But her support of the dark side is unquestionable."

Snoke laughed harder then abruptly stopped to bend down towards him, so close that he almost touched his face against Kylo's. "Usefulness, Lord Ren. It is all that matters."

Kylo swallowed. "She will be useful to us." He corrected himself, "She is useful to us."

"To us?" His master noted, eyes widening to reveal their dark depths, "Or to you?"

"To us," Kylo stammered, the accusation causing him to falter, "To the First Order. The annexation will be a success on the account of the Hapes desiring her as their figurehead, while she remains loyal to our cause. This act will bind the Hapes Consortium planets as our tributaries."

Snoke sat back. "Those are words General Hux would have applied to this deliberation. He would suppose her as a loyal puppet."

"In this matter," Kylo wanted to retract those words and spit on them, but instead he swallowed his hatred, "the general is correct. She's submissive and obedient—Adhering to some sort of imperial indoctrination."

"I am given to know that the young general," Snoke baited suddenly, "desires to make her his wife."

Kylo snapped ferociously, "I'd kill him first!"

"Ah…how intriguing…" Snoke sat back in his seat with a cruel knowing smile, "And when he is so essential to our cause? Is she worth the downfall of the First Order to you?" he asked with disturbing gentleness.

Then after a small pause, his eyes flashed savage fury, "Or is this the grip of the light sinking its claws again into your impressionable mind?!"

Kylo gaped, tilting his torso away from the Supreme Leader's full meaning. "I have killed my own father to prove my path is only towards darkness."

"You have compassion for the girl," Snoke hissed, "And yet, at the same time, you would easily eliminate an indispensable asset!"

"She's one of us!"

"So is the General!" Snoke roared, "You nearly destroyed a crucial link to our destiny because he affronted you over a girl! And not just any girl, your aunt!"

The young knight nearly choked on his own horror.

"Is this familial pride, Lord Ren," Snoke sneered, "or jealousy?"

Kylo reeled backwards, "My family—"

"Your family… Your mother and your uncle are our enemies," he interjected frigidly, then added with a death's head smile, "The questions remain: Is your aunt also? And will your actions in regards to her force you to become one as well."

"I am forever loyal to the Order of Ren," the dark knight dropped his head subserviently, "What would you have me do, master?"

"Bring her before me," Snoke said, abruptly nonchalant and amiable again, "Since you consider her worthy enough to provoke your protection… to the detriment of the First Order."

Kylo winced.

"Perhaps her usefulness will be readily apparent," his master said off-handedly pernicious then his tone darkened further, "perhaps not."

"I can assure you," Kylo bowed his head lower and touched his fist to the floor in deep respect, "with her power in the force, you will find a use for her."

"Perhaps," Snoke replied, almost balefully thoughtful, "but I am more interested in discovering what use you," he emphasized, "may have for her."

The dark knight stiffened.

"At 1800 hours, no later."

"Yes, master."

"Until then," Snoke warned sinisterly playful, "chose your actions and thoughts wisely. Usefulness to the dark side is all that matters, any deviation towards the light will lead to anarchy and," he stressed menacingly, "death."

The young knight saluted him, "As you wish, master."

Once outside the chamber and the door shut behind him, Kylo ripped off his helmet hardly waiting for the electronic latches to completely unhinge before nearly throwing it off himself, and gulped air in gasping breaths. In vain, he breathed to collect himself. In vain, he clawed at the force to stabilize the rush of tortured adrenaline rifling through his vessels. His mind reeled.

Drenched in sweat, he staggered unsure of his own feet. Proprioception shot. Color draining in waves from his skin. His very own thoughts affronted him with horror.

The Supreme Leader's foreboding words reverberated within his skull. The fury of them threw him into a mind-boggling maze of… shock? Or was it a fear?

Kylo stumbled backward against the entrance's control panels and sucked air through his lips as if it was the only thing keeping him from choking on his emotions. Closing his eyes, he craned his head back against the wall. A cold pallor overcame him.

Tears raged down his cheeks in pathetic tracks of moisture. One drop made its way into the corner of his mouth. A pinch of saltwater coupled with despair.

Internally, half of him remonstrated images of his father's face as he ran him through, the other half tore at his senses as if trying to survive drowning on land. He ignored his tears and howled, echoing his frustrations down the metal hall. Echoing his rage against the universe. His rage against Hux. Against life.

His fingers tore into the polymer of his helmet. Cracks splintered under his fingertips. With another howl, he spun, slamming his helmet into the wall. He punched the helmet into it again and again and again until the metal and polymer crumbled in his fist, electronics sparking into obliteration.

It didn't matter at that moment that he was the Master of the Knights of Ren. He was a nineteen-year-old kid, whom lost his father… and wretched at the notion of losing another family member, possibly by his own hand.

With a loud cursing sob, he leaned his forehead against the wall and cried, sliding down it to his knees. He couldn't do it again. Not again.

 ******More is yet to come. Thank you for reading. Please send in reviews and comments, I really enjoy reading them. ******


	43. Chapter 43

"You can't possibly be serious, sir?!" Ru gaped down at the data pad in his hand.

Commander Rokens shrugged, not particularly concerned by the panic in his subordinate's face. "You're the only officer that can speak Hapan fluently enough to do it."

"My brother—"

"Is having to take the course himself," Rokens checked his cuticles for dryness.

Ru opened and closed his mouth a few times then gave up with a roll of his head, groaning, "What has my brother done now?"

"What hasn't he done?" Rokens smirked, zipping off for the command deck.

The Lieutenant Commander bounded after him. For someone whom had a rather rotund midsection, Rokens was considerably fast. It took the younger man a few good long strides to catch up to him.

"The Cultural Appropriations Department are beginning to name the new amendments to the Rules of Conduct, 'Aster's List,'" Rokens illustrated, quite amused.

His delight bubbled over, "I suggested to call it Mainframe's list, myself, but the CA officers were concerned that it would give our computers' artificial intelligence a bad name."

The color drained from Ru's face. "Emperor forbid. Should I even ask what the list entails?"

"Just some odds and ends," Rokens expounded, "For instance: Never ask a superior officer if they've been smoking Spice. And 'the voices,'" he made quotation marks, "are not an adequate excuse for contradiction of any superior officer's orders."

"The voices?"

"Yes," Rokens said, punching in the code for the security access to the command level, "the voices. No crew member may start any situational report with 'And no Sarlaac, there I was…'. Military Walkers are not to be operated just to 'squish' things, Nor to try something seen on a 'cartoon.'"

He swiped his clearance tube against the panel, "Never teach other soldiers to say offensive things in Hapan, under the guise of teaching them how to say potentially useful phrases."

Ru grimaced. Yeah, his brother finds that especially humorous.

"Never threaten anyone with conjuring up dead Sith," the commander continued, ignoring the officers saluting him along the hall, "Never let sock puppets take command of your post."

They passed through the communications starboard wing.

"Never program the computers to end Sanitation Reports with 'in accordance with prophecy, it too shall pass.' Never fill your commanding officer's pillow with your dirty underwear. Public gestures of.…'wanking it'…"

Rokens made quotation marks in the air as the security doors opened for them, "are not appropriate ways of demonstrating a discordance with a command decision."

The lieutenant commander clutched the data pad to his chest, positively horrified.

"No taking incriminating images of the chain of command. No digitally-creating incriminating images of the chain of command. And no selling those images to the highest bidder."

Ru winced at every rule tumbling out of his superior's mouth.

"No selling souls while on First Order's time. No offering other soldiers' souls for sale. No selling photos of superior officers' sisters or wives to the stormtroopers as potential online brides."

Beyond mortified, Ru dropped his head and followed him through the weapons array consuls. "Sir, I must profusely apologize for my brother's conduct."

Ignoring his redress, Rokens stepped over a sweeper droid, not missing a step in his stride,"And my personal favorite: Black body paint is not a proper uniform." He chuckled, "There are over 122 rules in total."

He flicked his hand towards the data pad pressed with tight fists against Ru's chest. "The conclusive list is before you."

The Lieutenant Commander glanced down at the data pad suddenly dizzy.

"At 1200 hours," Rokens told him, "in the officer's lounge, you'll lead the training module." He sighed, "It is unfortunate, but at such short notice, we had to resort to adapting an old Imperial Harassment course. It will suffice for now. Your brother will have everything set up for you by the time you get there."

"You're trusting my brother with this assignment?!" Ru was beyond flabbergasted.

He held up the data pad rigidly, "After this list?"

Rokens shrugged, pivoting on his heel towards the command deck's main doors. "I don't see why not? The lieutenant is clever. And technically, since he helped develop the tech for the course—he doesn't really need to take it—but the CA guys just flat out refuse to let him out of it. They're convince he needs to see it again after he sent in a request for Separation Pay for being away from his," he took the data pad from Ru to scan it, then read aloud, "inflatable female friend."

He handed him back the data pad. "So you're it, Lieutenant Commander. And I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Ru glanced down at the itinerary details. "But there are 46 enrolled? How did 46 sexual harassment incidences occur with Hapes nationals in just two days?"

"Remember the de-pants'ng incident at the droid-toilet party?" Rokens explained, "And of course there is the Lady River, she instigated quite a few of the other charges."

"But 46 enrollees in a sexual harassment course?" The Lieutenant Commander gasped, "One of which is a woman? Sir, I swear I know nothing about sexual harassment."

"But you speak their language fluently."

"With all due respect, sir," Ru challenged the order, "most of these Hapes on the roster know our Basic just as well as I their Hapan. Ever since the princess telepathically enhanced our minds, we're pretty much all bilingual, sir."

"Yes, but now the Central Public Relations Department has exacted an order stating that any compliance training offered aboard a flagship is to be administered in the trainees' native tongue in order to promote cultural sensitivity," Rokens said with a happy expression on his ruddy face.

"We are to,'promote a safe and secure learning environment in order to indoctrinate and brainwash new recruits'," he quoted with a pleasant smile.

Ru stumbled back a step reeling. "What happened to brain modification techniques or memory swiping?"

"Cultural sensitivity happened." Ru shrugged then regarded him with a direct look, "You have half an hour to set up, Lieutenant Commander. So, I suggest you get started."

He stepped through the doors onto the command deck with a salute, "Honor to the Supreme Leader."

Out of habit Ru matched his salute, then dropped his arm with a nervous twitch. He would never despise political correctness and cultural sensitivity more than at that moment… Or rather, he thought he would never despise it more… And then 1200 hours happened. The longest hours of his life.


	44. Chapter 44

"All of these foods are imported from the Hapes Consortium," the princess told Dr. Wintlock, telekinetically sliding the three-tiered tray of confections on the table towards him, "but the recipes are imperial." She picked up a small pink and white layered square mini-sandwich and popped it in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before speaking, "The Hapan chefs adapted my recipes to the ingredients that they had, and this is the wonderful result."

The mouth-watering aromas of the spicy-floral tea coupled with the meats, cheeses, and fruity pastries fought for olfactory precedence against the infirmary's harsh cleaning solutions. Fortunately for Wintlock, the disinfectants were waning.

With a sweet sigh, Apple gave the food a fond look as though it was representative of the people that made it. "Despite the unfortunate interrogations, the Hapes citizens have made a considerable effort to honor the amalgamation."

Dr. Wintlock sat back in his seat and plucked a warm-gooey scone from the middle tier. "General Hux refers to the contract as an annexation, your highness," he said straight-forwardly warning her, "and so should you."

Apple bobbed one shoulder up against her right ear. "I know that, but he's a military man—how could he think otherwise. For their sake, I will call it an amalgamation," her eyes flitted to Hux's pod, as she altered the subject slightly, "Besides, he has a lot more healing to do before he can leave here, and that leaves just my nephew and I to handle the political arrangements. And you know how sensitive my nephew is to bureaucratic matters."

The old physician's mouth pressed into a firm line.

"What's the time?" Apple leaned towards him, whispering surreptitiously.

Wintlock fought against a lopsided grin as he spread cream on his scone. The princess had long since shooed the officers out of the room, so the need for covert action was eliminated. Yet, she kept sending her metal-blind eyes to the walls, most likely seeing the men on the other side of the barriers as still being in the same room with them.

"They can't hear you, your highness—they're still outside in the hall," he reminded her for the third time, then answered her question, "And you have a fifteen more minutes before the next healing cycle."

A blush lit her cheeks as her eyes flit to the meal before her abashedly. "I can't help thinking they're right here… I regret not being able to see like other people." Little drops of moisture collected on her lower eyelids.

Wintlock felt his face smoothen in sympathy. He carefully changed the subject and nodded at her ivory dress, "White again, your highness?"

He rested his wrists against the table to give her parental look, "It has been decades since the death of your family, your highness—you cannot continue to be in mourning while the rest of the universe has moved on. The troops will need you to be a beacon of hope and optimism—you are our future, and wearing mourning colors runs counterintuitive to it."

The tears increased.

Blast it, the old physician jerked back his head away from the inauspicious droplets. He was not used to offering sympathetic words to women.

"Not all my family is gone," she said, sniffling once before collecting herself as she gave him a directed look.

She reached across the table to touch the back of his hand. "I have you and Kylo. And I am so happy that one of my fathers lives."

He froze.

A teasing grin tickled the tears out of her eyes, "Oh how I have missed you!"

She sprang out of her chair to throw her arms about his neck. She kissed the top of his head several times despite his awkward harrumphs and grumblings.

"You did quite well in pretending to hardly know me," she snuggled her cheek against his crown, drenching his hair in her tears, "I was so afraid that your secret would be known because of me," she babbled on, "and it was very hard keeping your secret when it means so much to me."

"Which secret?" His mouth wrestled against a pleased smile.

She pulled away to crouch down a tinge just so she could look him in the eyes, "All of them."

Tears welled on her lashes. "I am so happy you are alive. You have no idea how happy." She wrapped her arms around his neck once more, snuggling her cheek against his shoulder, "You are the only one of my DNA fathers still alive." She perked up, "At least that I know of."

"So," Wintlock picked up a cup of tea—a dangerous move while she was hug-jostling of his upper body—as he battled against the bluing-parental-blush from coloring his cheeks.

Blowing out a surrendering sigh, he decided that it was foolhardy at that point to feign ignorance of her meaning and continued his thoughts outloud, "you were told all the details of your creation experiment, were you?"

"Of course." She half-pulled away to quail out her rear in order to peer directly in his face, "My father highly-valued your healing abilities. Why wouldn't he tell me how he added your DNA to the pot?" She wrinkled her nose at him playfully, "Besides, it's your mother's mitochondrial DNA that I should thank for me being a girl."

He blinked at her, not particularly knowing what to say in response to that. "Oh?"

She threw her head back and laughed before giving him a final kiss on the top of his head then skipped off to her seat. "Father told me how he added your blood to the experiment," made a face and moved her fist crossed herself determinedly, "just to stick it to my grandfather and junk his ideals of having a son."

"So that's what happened?" Wintlock grinned then joined her in her laughter, "Not a botched job—it was a design flaw then, eh?" He shook his head, chuckling, "And my mother's DNA was to blame."

Apple beamed, "Exactly."

Out of all the things she could have said, that tickled him the most. He lifted his teacup, "To maternal mitochondrial DNA."

She raised hers in response matching his smile. "To grandma." Realization struck her, "Oh!" Hurriedly, she put her cup down to reach into her left sleeve.

After a moment, Apple snuck a small ornate satchel from the pocket within the sleeve, "I have something for you." With a tug of the silk ties, she emptied the imperial brocaded bag onto a thick embroidered handkerchief.

A clear crystal glistened in the artificial lights as she cradled it in the cloth. Holding her long sleeve back with her other hand, she offered it to him. "It's for you."

"Is that what I think it is?" He was all astonishment.

"A Kyber crystal," she answered his assumption, "An untouched cyber crystal." She offered it to him again, pinching it in the ornately flowered fabric.

"I thought siths altered them," Wintlock felt hesitant to take it.

The clear crystal let of a sensation that he couldn't quite place. He shifted his attention to her face, "Aren't they supposed to be artificial or red?"

"Not pure ones." She wrapped it tenderly in the cream and pink cloth so that the lights only glistened on the golden threads in the brocade. "Living crystals respond to the force user that discovers them. Father took me crystal hunting on Ilum before he…" she trembled, eyes welling again, then in an attempt to steady herself, she altered her description, "before I went into carbonite."

She nodded at the stone, "I collected several of them from the pure vein of kyberite we found together. The crystals are supposed to be difficult to find, but these ones called to me, so I located them quite quickly even to my father's surprise. And these were without a drop of impurities, too." She grinned proudly, "Even rarer."

"There are more than just this one?" He was beyond amazed. Superbly amazed. "From what I've read about them, the Jedi kept these crystals secret… changing their name even to Kaiburr… just to deter unwanted questions. If any were discovered, they kept them in hidden secure vaults. And the sith were much more fastidious than even the jedi concerning their whereabouts," he noted with awe, "Very rare indeed."

"And I," she puffed herself up, "I glimpsed quite a few of them. This one," she snatched his hand to place the bundle in it, "reminded me of you, so I plucked it from a pile of drull rocks."

Despite his training being in medicine, even he knew the term drull rocks… broken, useless fool's-kybers, or fake kyber crystals that had the capacity to trick the weak-minded into pilfering them instead of pure kybers. Nature's protection as it were.

That kyber must have sung a distinct song to be so singled out from a pile of similar-appearing fakes.

The princess continued chattering, "I believe this one wanted to be with you. If allowed, a kyber will choose a particular force sensitive, and I really believe this one was trying to choose you—possibly knowing that I was related to you, it called to me in order to get somehow to you."

His eyebrow scar twitched, "Saying that is as good as claiming these rocks are—"

"Sentient?" She replied without blinking a doubtful eyelash, "They are. Can't you feel their resonance?"

"I admit that the crystal does give off a …certain mysterious sensation." He plucked it from the fabric to hold it up to the light pinched between his gloved fingers. "Some array of emotionally-charged lattice permutation… of sorts."

"It's trying to communicate with you," she explained not alleviating his skepticism, "I'm telling you: I believe this one was meant for you. When I reached for it, I got a vision of you."

Wintlock shook his head, scientific mind battling with the force side of him. "Curious." He admitted after a moment of the crystal humming a variety of prisms on the table before them. "There are things in this universe that are just too difficult to explain."

"These are force-attuned crystals…" Apple settled herself, folding her hands in her lap, "composed of inorganic and organic matter. Jedi only used them for lightsabers from what I hear. And so do most sith. But they are much more than just the emitter-matrices for sabers: They actually respond to life…All life. Even insect or plant."

She lifted her eyes to his face with an excited grin. "My favorite part is that they sing… if it truly is meant for you then it will grow warm in your fingers and you will hear it sing…like a harmonious series of vibrations resulting in some form of a song."

He frowned.

"And each kyber will change color according to a person's personality and characteristics." She became even more excited. "I can't wait to see if it likes you… and what color you'll get."

His frown deepened. The rock was a rectangular crystal shard, similar in appearance to common quartz found on many planets—except it had a warbling prism pattern within itself as opposed to just reflecting prisms outward on the surrounding environment. And a slight warm vibration tinkled out of it like minuscule bells sending a tingling sensation through his gloves into his fingertips.

Losing interest in the lack of scientific data, he shrugged. "Lightsaber crystals are all red," he said as if answering her color inquiry and put the stone aside. "And what use would I have for a lightsaber."

The little princess contorted her face into an impatient pout. "This one's not for a saber. That's a paltry…" she searched for the right words, "…ordinary use for such beautiful things. I brought you this one because you can use it to increase your healing ability. In ancient manuscripts, kybers were esteemed for their unmatched ability to channel energy and generate enormous returns. Come on," she playfully wined, "Just take your glove off and touch it."

Breathing out an apathetic puff of air, he removed his glove only to indulge her and picked up the crystal in his index and thumb. "Your highness, see this is no more than a—"

The crystal flickered.

"…rock," he finished in a gasp.

An increased humming erupted out of the rock as it vibrated richly between his fingers. "My word, what is it doing?"

"It's deciding if it likes you or not," she poked her nose closer to it, watching with almost comically wide eyes.

The colors trilled throughout its length, spinning through the spectrum of visible light. Slight flashes of prisms popped in varying directions. Then suddenly, it just blanked out.

"What happened?" Dr. Wintlock found himself oddly disappointed.

"I don't know," she leaned closer to squint at it, "maybe it can't figure you out. You didn't kill anyone recently…" she gave him a scrutinizing look, "They really hate that."

He just stared at her, careful not to think of the technician he shot the day prior. "I'm a physician." A wayward statement, but he was sticking to it.

Apple puckered her lips in contemplation then said after a long moment, "How about… think about the patient's you are trying to heal?" A less than confident suggestion, but as good as any with such a metaphysical experiment.

Dr. Wintlock glanced over at Hux's healing pod, out of habit more than as a result of their current experiment.

The squatty crystal came alive once again. A light sparked within its core, erupting outward into a sustained glowing. The color?

A resonating dark yellow.

"Yellow?" She said as if saying, 'huh?' "That is the first time I have ever seen that color."

"Is it supposed to mean something?"

"I think so…" she mused, "I read once that yellow was associated with scientific inquiry, but that was a light bright yellow. I've never heard of a dark yellow though."

Wintlock shrugged and went to put the stone back on its cloth bed. "There you have it. I am…" he cleared his throat, "yellow."

Apple chuckled heartily. "I like yellow—yellow is spunky." She plucked the now-amber stone from the fabric and attached one end of the crystal to a leather and gold setting.

Tiny golden wiring slithered out of the setting to wrap around the kyber. Forked edges clipped onto the crystal's other pentagonal end, folding an encasement over it in tented lines. A symbol of the empire spun into a place in the crystal's center, altering the kyber's appearance to that of a Drak'mer pendant design commonly found on Coruscant around 34 BBY.

"An imperial marker?" He smirked, "That brings back memories."

"Kyber camouflage," she handed him the crystal. "An imperial pendant…And no one will be the wiser."

"It still lets off a vibration," he examined it between his fingers.

"Now only to you," she explained then added, "I can see its pulsation because well… you know… my eyes.." she moved her shoulders one at a time against her ears self-consciously, "but I can't hear it's song. Only you can hear it now."

Despite his desire to protest, he somehow knew that she was correct. And after making it a chain, the kyber appeared to be nothing more than an imperial artifact loyalists would have worn during the earlier days.

She poured him some more tea, topping off his cup, "The crystal needs to look like an everyday object. And you still are an imperialist at heart, so the marker is the best disguise in plain sight. Keep it's nature hidden," her eyes met his seriously, "Siths discovering its existence will be the least of your worries."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood for a moment. Another premonition? "I wonder that I should keep it at all."

"It belongs to you," she told him simply, "And it will keep you safe. Besides," her seriousness faded away into a smile that lit up the room, "it will enhance your healing abilities." She picked up little golden tongs, hovering them over the sugar bowl. "One lump or two?"

He chuckled at her askew conversational transitions. "Two."

She put two lumps of sugar into his cup, flashing him a dazzling smile. "Now how many more minutes until we can heal Armitage again?"

"Five."

"Then drink your tea, doctor and work up your strength," she teased, eyes crinkling at their corners as sparkles shone from their depths, "Because I can't wait to see your kyber crystal in acton."

Her gaze drifted over to man inside the healing pod. After a moment, her smile wavered with concern and something else that the doctor couldn't quite place.

Finally she added softly, "And I hope he opens his eyes today."

 ******More to come folks. Again, excuse the typos or grammar errors if any. I haven't time to edit the chapters these days. But please send in reviews, I love to read them and hear what you have to say. I write because of you. Thank you for reading. *****


	45. Chapter 45

The "students" hadn't arrived at the officer's lounge yet, except for two Hapes men whom were busy loitering outside in the hall. Or rather… they were annoying the sparks off a sentry droid, flipping it upside down to jack with its four rolling casters. It beeped furiously in protest and attempted to shock one.

Fortunately for them, they were wearing enlisted uniforms and now had authorized energy signatures—otherwise the little white square droid would've exacted revenge. In fact, if it wasn't for their perfectly flawless faces and shiny golden hair, no one would have mistaken them for being Hapes pirates. That and the fact that they were molesting a deadly sentry droid like it was a new toy off a grocery store shelf.

The droid whirred and carried on, fussing until it nipped one of their thumbs with its set of pinchers.

Laughing, the handsome golden-haired man dropped it on its several antennae and popped his cut finger in his mouth. His violet-eyed companion pointed at him laughing. The sentry complained, shuddering until it could flip itself back onto its squatty legs, angrily wiggling its antennae and scuttled off rather indignant.

Lieutenant Commander Ru rolled his eyes. Integrating them into their ranks that swiftly most likely will result in some disaster or other, but he couldn't gainsay Commander Rokens' decisions. The man may appear a jovial optimist on the surface but when he wanted something, he had the most frightening demonic look in his eye… reminiscent of Lord Ren sometimes.

Desperately trying to ignore their terrorizing of their latest victim a protocol droid, Ru strode past the Hapes ingrates without so much as a nod. And they—having yet to recognize the rank-markers in the First Order— didn't salute him either.

Inwardly cringing at his inevitable assignment, Ru sharply headed into the the lounge not bothering to pause for the doors to open for him. Automatically the metal responded to his movement and hissed ajar the moment his boot hit the entrance.

Typically the officer's lounge was a sanctuary with couches, mini bars, game tables, and the occasional New-Republic Senator image overlaying a firing target. But he walked into a sad classroom, adorned with hideous magnetic chairs and desks. A flashback from his academy days… Not a good memory.

Some rustling in the back of the room drew his attention from the flickering holopads on the desks nearest him. His twin popped his head up from behind a small portable console.

He flashed him crooked grin, "'Sup?"

A surge of irritation mounted inside Lieutenant Commander Ru. "You!" He untucked his data pad from under his armpit to wave it furiously as he strode across the room towards his brother. "An entire list of flagrant insubordinate acts? 122 to be precise. What is wrong with you?"

Aster's olive-skinned face split into an even wider grin. "Insubordinate acts entail willfully disobeying one's superior. Those acts were were just good-hearted fun."

"Is that so?" Ru fixed his brother a tight-lipped look and typed harshly on the data pad with one very peeved index finger, "I'd like you describe how…"

He read out loud, "'adding images of officers you don't like to the resistance criminals poster board' is good-hearted fun?" His mouth pressed tighter. "Men could get killed."

"In my defense," Aster plunked on the nearby chair, "I digitally put them in dresses and see," he typed in a code and turned the monitor to his brother. Pictures of officers in CG dresses and makeup came up on the screen, he grinned, "they look so pretty."

Ru slowly shifted his eyes to his brother, steaming. "You're sick."

"Sick, but," Aster held up his pointer finger with a dastardly smile, "oh so funny."

Fit to be tied, Ru inhaled through his flared nostrils then exhaled. "This isn't funny. This is appalling. Half of these charges could get you executed. What would mom say if anything happened to you? You know what… she wouldn't say anything, she'd just start crying." He released a long-drawn out breadth of irritation. "I'm surprised you're still alive."

Aster rolled his eyes upwards and sighed loudly… dramatically… and just flat out annoyingly. "You worry too much."

He leaned back in his seat and kicked up his boots on the consul to clasp his hands behind his head. "They're not going to execute me over something this petty. I'm too good at hacking into computer systems. Besides, I know all the execution orders before they happen… I know every move they are going to make before they do it."

"Your arrogance is astonishing."

"Your lack of a personality is astonishing."

"This is serious," Ru waved the data pad at him, "Commander Rokens brought these to my attention."

"Rokens likes me," he flashed him a juicy grin which after a second of contemplation wavered a little, "Although, now that I think about that… He might swing both ways if you know what I mean."

Befuddled and a touch too angry, Ru snapped bitterly, "No I don't know what you mean."

Mainframe laughed heartily and patted his paler twin on the upper arm in a slapping motion. "I can't believe someone as righteous as you is actually my brother."

The Lieutenant Commander threw off his hand, jerking his arm up and backwards, "I'm just responsible: I stick to only what is necessary to get the job done, because maybe the fate of the universe and the safety of our family matter to me. Maybe, the First Order's fight for justice is the only thing that should take precedence anymore. And just maybe, until we've freed the universe from chaos and criminality, we can't," he raised his voice, "just mess around. This is critical, Aster."

"Correction," Mainframe yawned broadly, "this is boring."

Ru guardedly moved his head back and closed his mouth. "And I suppose protecting our imperial princess is all fun and games too?"

"What does protecting Apple have to do with my conduct list?"

A strangled gasp escaped his lips, "You called her by her given name? You can't call her by her given name."

"Yes, I can," Aster slouched lazily back in his chair, "she told me to."

"Just because she told you to, doesn't mean you can," Ru nearly dropped the data pad in his frustration.

He juggled with it, bouncing the pad clumsily a few tries before finally catching it. Stymied with his own fallacies, he slapped it down on the consul with a palm before continuing, "The princess deserves proper respect."

His brother swiveled his chair letting out a breadth from his puffed cheeks, then gave him a sidelong glance.

"The princess asked…" Aster enunciated slowly, "to be called Apple. Don't you care what she wants instead of adhering to some stupid protocol?"

"I care very much wants she wants!" Ru blurted, then turned his head to the side, "Very much so."

His communicator beeped. Grateful for the distraction, he snatched the device to eye the caller's designation. His face flushed. "Yes, your highness?"

"Ruuuuu," she dragged his name out in that little singsong voice she used when she wanted something.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It rather delighted him when she took on that tone. He replied all too eager to help, "Yes, your highness."

His brother silently laughed, mouthing 'sucker.'

Ru shot him a slit-eyed snarky glare.

"Could you find me some information on the meanings of kyber crystal colors?" The princess asked.

A tad confused, Ru repeated for clarification. "Kaiburr crystals?"

"Ky-ber," she enunciated, "The crystals typically used in lightsabers. But they have more uses. I just need a list of—"

"Got it," his twin announced, "Kyber crystal color meanings. Uploading to your datalink, bro."

"Ru 2," she bubbled happily, "I knew I could count on you."

"Should have called me, Apple," the darker twin continued to type codes, "I'm your information guy."

"I know," she sounded as though she spoke through a pout, "but I don't have your comm channel programmed into my communicator."

"Did you just chastise the princess?" Ru snapped at him.

"I did not chastise the princess," Mainframe countered then pulled his own comm from his pocket to thumb it, "Sending my comm channel—you should have it, princess."

"Got it!" Apple's audio-filtered voice reflected notions of a beaming smile, "See this is why I simply adore you two. Bring me the meanings list when you can."

"Already sent," he tapped a key with a flourish, "You should be able to read it now."

A hesitant silence replied to his announcement. "Uhhh… Aster," Apple ventured haltingly, "you do know that I'm tech-blind, right?"

The darker twin grimaced closing his eyes at his mistake, "I meant that any officer can read it for you now."

"Nice save," she called him on it with a laugh, then attempted to end the transmission, "Talk to you two later."

"Yes, your highness…" the lieutenant commander replied.

"Key'ler," she said a little sternly before ending the connection, "how many times do I have to remind you? Call me Apple." Then the channel blipped off.

"Always, your highness," he said softly to the silent communicator in his palm. "Always."

Aster gaped, blinking his eyes in an almost absurd motion if he wasn't struck with alarm, "Good stars, Key'ler! You're fond of her."

"No more than any other officer respectful of the once great Empire that she so happens to be a princess of," Ru harrumphed, putting his communicator away.  
His brother glanced both ways then leaned towards him, voice lowered to a harsh whisper, "I know you. That defensive jitteriness. That look in your eye—you were practically in love with that communicator. For the love of the Empire, please tell me you haven't developed feelings for her."

"No," Ru felt his cheeks flush with a strange choler, "it would be unsupportable."

Aster rolled his head to side and threw up his hands. "Blast it all!"

Shifting in his seat with apprehension, he rubbed his forehead and opened and closed his mouth a few times before hissing under his breadth, "Are you bloody mad?! And you think I'm," he stressed, "going to get executed?"

The darker twin covered his face with his hands and threw back his head, groaning. He pulled his palms from his face in a exasperated motion, "General Hux is in love with her. And not just some insensate-feeling infatuation, he's jump-head-first-into-a-sarlaac-pit-and-not-care in love with her. And Lord Ren?"

He looked around a second time then lowered his snipping voice even lower, "I don't know what's going on in that crazy son of a murlak's mind, but I guarantee you, he is far from the type to welcome you into the family with open arms."

He stealthed closer, "And I swear to you, somehow he's not wholly seeing himself as her nephew—Because he technically isn't. It's an unspoken knowledge that the two of them have few familial genes between them," he stressed, "and sooner or later…" he whispered harsher, "Let's just say things around here are going to get real dangerous."

Aster opened one hand, smacking the other on his thigh, "Look at the General for sirens out loud! He didn't just trip over a sentry droid and land in sick bay. That was Ren's doing. And _he's_ a general."

The lieutenant Commander shifted his stance uncomfortable. He ducked his head, face flushing, "I have no intentions towards her. None. She deserves better."

"She deserves to get her afterburner as far away from the First Order as she can get. You know as well as I do that it's just a matter of time before the Supreme Leader will deem her a threat and find someway to eliminate her."  
Alarm drew any color from Ru's face. "Emperor forbid."

"I wish that would be the case, but there is no Emperor and there is no Empire anymore. That's the reality we live in."

He continued, trying to first busy himself with the consul then quickly giving up to face his lighter twin again, "And as much as mom and dad don't want to admit it, this is the First Order—It will never be the rebirth of the Empire. It is led by the Supreme Leader—whom just might not like the idea of an imperial princess with a natural claim to the imperial throne in his territory," he said bitterly, then made a face, quoting, "And 'Emperor forbid'? No body talks like that anymore. You sound like dad."

Dismissing his brother's criticism, Ru turned to walk away a few steps distractedly. "There must be something we can do to protect her."

Aster just watched him, dark eyebrows raising. His brother knew as well as he did that he was the one with the gifts to see into the future if he concentrated hard enough.

His darker twin closed his mouth and sat back waiting.

After a long moment, Ru felt the universal vibrations tingling in the air around him. It was enough to send a prickling sensation along his skin and he had his answer.

The Lieutenant Commander pivoted on his heel to face his impatient brother, "Something tells me that there will be." He slapped his palm down on the top of the consul, expression enlivened. "And I know that this is the path we were meant to take. Regardless of prior specified duty."

"Looks like," Aster grinned, "my brother's starting to step on insubordinate ground. Welcome to the dark side."

Ru's expression went flat, "Funny."

"You do realize that Lady River is totally into you," his dark twin steered the conversation in a wayward direction typical of him, "And I mean way into you," he enunciated. "You should go for her."

Ru snorted, "She's into everyone."

"So," Aster flashed him a tawdry grin, "Hasn't stopped me."

"You two are the same," Ru glared.

"I know," Aster stood from his seat disappointed, "I'd totally go for her myself, but I can't very well date my twin, now can I?"

That warranted him a dirty look.

"But what about Lady Roan?" Aster engaged the console's audio visual system setting up the remainder of the class, "Now she's a serious," whistled a little chintzy, "tall drink of scrumptious wine." He dropped the gritty grin at his brother's deadly stare, "Come on, you know she's beautiful and serious and straightforward."

"I don't need a matchmaker," Ru stated coldly.

"What about Blaze?"

"I'm not into insane women."

"But you have to admit that they are hot," Aster waggled his eyebrows.

Ru decided it was time to walk away.

His twin met his steps. "Give one of them a chance. A fiery relationship might do you some good. And it will keep you…" his tawdry smile wavered, "…alive."

"And this is exactly why you are being forced to take a sexual harassment course," Ru said with a knowing look.

"If you don't want those beautiful women… whom are not sought after by the General and have a sith watching over them, then what do you want?"

"What I want is none of your business," Ru retorted flustered, his hands jittery. He tugged at his gloves, wanting to scratch them off.

Aster glanced down at his brother's hands then mouthed a silent, 'oh.' "I didn't realize that it was so much of a curse."

They both know what he meant—the psychometry.

"You don't realize a lot of things outside of your superficial world," Ru snapped, embarrassed. "I want more than that! I want something pure and real!"

Aster jerked his upper body away from his brother's outburst, but pressed his lips into a silent line.

The Lieutenant Commander paused, body stiffening for a terse moment before he exhaled, face to the metal floor. "I prefer that when I touch someone," lifting his hand to stare at his palm, "I sense goodness, not to some ulterior motive. To sense just gentle and happy vibes. Someone wholesome. Someone sweet."

Realization dawned on Aster's face, "So it isn't the princess you are in love with… You just want…"

Ru met his eyes. No words needed to be exchanged there and the brothers were hardly into delving deeper into emotions and sentiments.

With a half-smile, Aster punched his brother's arm. "There is hope for you yet, bro."

The Lieutenant Commander didn't return the favor, because he'd end up feeling it more than his twin would. Awkward, he quickly changed the subject.

"How is the investigation progressing?"  
Relieved, Aster exhaled the air from his puffed cheeks, "Staff Sergeant Utio was the man's name. He was falsely listed as from the _Locator,_ then instead somehow transferred to the _Palace_ —"

" _Palace_? Who names their ship the Palace?" Ru postulated, "I've never heard of her."

"The real name of the ship is the _Pe'lez_ , its a class II," Mainframe explained, "But the Captain decked it with just a little too much luxury in order to transport Warlords."

"No Warlord would travel on a Class II," Ru was skeptic.

"One would think," his brother said, "but this one had a few inauspicious warlord transports."

"Anything that can be connected to this?"

"That's the strange part," Mainframe sat his right hip on the nearest desktop and glanced at the transparent viewports facing the hall. His dark eyes searched for possible interruptions. But no one was crossing the hall at that time.

The students were still no where to be found but they had another 15 minutes give or take before the mayhem started.

He swung his attention back to his brother, "Everything could easily be related to this altercation, except for one small detail. Th _Pe'lez_ crew had no idea that the man was coming and no political passengers have utilized that ship in over 4 months."

Aster strained his neck, watching for passerbys in the hall, "I found a few service reports from the ship's C.O. which expressed complaint to Central about not being given notice of the man's transference to their crew."

"Did he stand out that much?"

"On the contrary, the reports complained that he wasn't," he made air quotes, "'stylish' enough to be part of their crew."

Ru chuckled, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in a quirky smile, "Are you sure that they were a First Order crew and not a New Republic one?"

"Yeah, I hear you," Aster met his snicker, "The most untoward contrivance appeared the moment that they docked at one of Central Command's space stations, the Argeis. Once docked, the man disappeared."

"He escaped?"

"In a manner of speaking," Aster's expression turned grim, "His death was witnessed by quite a few people."

"Several witnesses?" Ru postulated, taking a few steps, before stopping to scry back at him. "A staged execution?"

Aster shrugged, "As staged as a freak accident could be."

Ru's eyes widened. It wasn't that he was bothered by the death—It was the loss of a possible lead in the case. "Not a formal execution..?" He gave his brother a wry look, "for insubordination."

"Funny," Mainframe scowled then continued, "the man had a perfect record."

That didn't set well with the Lieutenant Commander, "Perfect records means nothing anymore. FN-2187 had a 'perfect record'," he sneered then continued, "and suddenly became a traitor."

"Yes, but in this case," A somber look entered his brother's dark eyes, "the man's records belonged to a soldier that had died three years ago."

"Then who was this man?" Ru felt his blood boil, "And how come no one noticed the discrepancy? He must have been a Resistance interloper or a Hapes National."

"No," a shadow crossed over Aster's countenance, "he was a clone."

"A clone?" Ru stumbled backwards a step, "Emperor forbid. All the cloning factories are under top secret security directed by the Supreme Leader himself."

"All the ones we can account for." Aster shrugged then leaned his torso towards his sibling, "And unfortunately, we can't track this clone's biomarkers to its origination facility…" he shook his head, "They were wiped clean from the system just before the body disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Ru closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What? Did it just get up and walk away?"

"Hey," Aster jostled his shoulders in an epic shrug, "it took a considerable amount of hacking to pull what I did about the case. I was lucky to rip the perp's 'clone-inty' from the deleted autopsy report. Technically, the report was completely wiped with hardly a print left, but it did lead me to a service tech's vid to his mother whom mentioned in passing along with his request for her 'scrumptious cookies' and some clean underwear that he had helped dissect a clone. The date he gave being the exact one that the morgue received the body."

Aster pointed at the air a few times as if typing in it. "Also, here's a fun fact: that tech along with the doctor performing the autopsy and the rest of the staff present during the autopsy… have… all… gone," air quotes again, "'missing'. Yeah."

He clapped sarcastically then reached into his pocket for a snack bite, popping it into his mouth, "By the way, the tech's mother is heartbroken and says on her blog that she is drowning herself in baking cakes and cookies, which she is offering at discount prices to her First Order viewers."

Ru waved his brother's flood of extra information off and zeroed back in on the real question at hand. "But why would they perform an autopsy in the first place on a body found in a witnessed accident?"

Aster laughed a dark sound, "Because some medical professionals are creepy: He was stomped to death by a stampede of nerf and someone had a sick fascination for crush injuries. Besides, the service tech did say that spice was found in the clone's system."

"Spice and nerfs on a Central Command space station?" Ru blinked befuddled by the entire idea of it.  
"Officers smuggle spice in all the time," Mainframe gave him the look he would give a mentally-challenged Ter'l.

He continued, chewing on his snackbite, "The druggies just use quick-fix solution to rook random drugs screens. Works like a charm as long as no one dips their urine for nitrates."

"And how do you," Ru emphasized firmly, "know this?"

"I know a lot about a lot of things," Aster flashed him a white-toothed grin, "And the nerfs? They were being transported from Arkanis to Woevis. The carrier cache 'somehow,'" he made air-quotes again, "came open and they stampeded through the lower decks just as the clone perf was seen talking to someone in the shadows." Aster shrugged with a off-color giggle, "Reports indicate that several Stormtroopers tried to shoot the animals but not one nerf managed to be struck by laser fire. Not one. Go figure."

"Any images of the person he was communicating with before he died?"

"No." Aster said solemnly, "No other biosignatures. No droids. No evidence of comm signals or holograms within the area. Either he was having a conversation with the voices inside his head, or—"

"What about shadows enhancement?"

"Tried it," Mainframe said, "Nothing."

"What about the force?"

"A force sensitive clone?" The dark eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

"Was the clone of the original officer?" Ru moved his thumb and forefinger back and forth across his lips, "Or was he a clone of someone else?"

"Not the original," his brother nodded, "The facial recognition program listed him as a clone unknown. No facial match in any of the New Republic or First Order records."

"Perhaps, we should search earlier then." Ru straightened his uniform sleeves. "I sense that there is more to this story than just a standard infiltration."

Aster postulated, apparently mulling over the details. "What would have been nice was if you had touched the body before it too disappeared, then we would—"

Ru shot him a dirty look silencing him on the subject, then unnerved by the suggestion, blurted without merit, "we still can't rule out the resistance."

"Possibly," Mainframe replied then the corner of his mouth curled up in a crooked smile, "but the Resistance doesn't typically 'off' their own spies along with innocent medical personnel just for a coverup."

The sad thing was that he knew that all too well.

The doors hissed open as the first wave of the students arrived flanked by Stormtroopers.

Startled, the brothers jumped away from each other.

"Alright," Ru clapped his hands, speaking in Hapan, "Welcome to Cultural Compliance Training with the First Order. If you would take your seats…"

He dropped his head and groaned when a few of the ex-pirates picked up their seats and began to cart them off over their heads. "Put the seats down. I meant," he felt a headache coming on, "please sit down in a seat at a desk."

Quizzical expressions on their handsome faces, the men sat at the seats much too small for their towering frames.

Mainframe snickered and shot off to the console.

A small hand grabbed a handful of Ru's rear accompanied by a sultry feminine voice, "Lieutenant Commander."

He jolted. "Lady River."

Taking a step away, he faced the breathtaking red-head. A glorious mane of scarlet hair framed her flawless face, full sensuous lips, large coppery eyes framed by long eyelashes and a generous bosom which she was drawing her perfectly manicured fingers down her cleavage. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

She smoothed her hand up his chest to his shoulder, sidling up to him or rather brushing everything that was her beneath that tight uniform against him. "I missed you," she spoke close to his mouth, "you and your pale eyes and pale. lips…" Her other hand reached up to curl the close cut platinum hair at the nape of his neck between her fingers.

A beautiful woman in all respects except the tenuous vibes reflecting off her. With every brush of her fingers, he could sense everything and everyone she had touched. Not wholesome in the least. Using that sensation, strengthened his resolve.

He extracted himself from her grip, a firm line forming on his mouth, "Go take your seat, Lady River."

With a pucker of her luscious lips, she made a complaining mewing sound and sauntered off. The sway of her hips did have a hypnotic affect, which he had to shake his head of.

He lifted his data pad to shroud his view of her voluptuous shape as she bent over her desk to flirt with a stormtrooper.

The Lieutenant Commander forced himself to read the instructions for the class.

1\. Promote a friendly and open learning environment in which the students will know that it is either the First Order or death.

2\. Know your audience. Information on appropriate blackmail material is attached.

3\. Offer them bribes to spy on each other…

"Lieutenant Commander," a rich moderately-accented voice startled him, only a moment before he felt that twinge of the force.

Resolder nodded to him in greeting.

"Lord Resolder," Ru hid his data pad from sight, "I hadn't thought you were on the list."

Dressed in a non-descript First Order uniform, the teenager had his once-long, curly black hair cut in a military hair style. For all intensive purposes, he would have appeared as a tall cadet except for his darting eyes and nobility mannerisms.

"I'm not," his dark eyes shot to Captain Heg'ir as he entered causing a loud but good-natured ruckus as he joined the other men, "Prince Fusolder has asked…" the way he said it was hinting more that he was commanded, "me to ensure that certain individuals do not cause anymore intergalactic incidents."

As if on cue, the Captain lifted another vid device from an unsuspecting officer to begin happily playing on it.

A slight bruising remained on the side of his face and over the bridge of his nose from the previous 'intergalactic incident.'

"I'd be more concerned about the Lady River," Ru strangely felt sorry for the Hapes men, "than I would the pirate Captain." They were a resilient bunch.

Resolder's dark eyes flitted back and forth warily again, "Hapes women are not very predictable nor held as accountable for stupidity as we males are. I can not control her actions."

Ru's expression softened towards the younger man, "You will appreciate the differences the First Order has to offer."

A quizzical mien crossed the boy's face then his expression hardened, "I wasn't very appreciative of the First Order's introductory hospitality."

Ru stiffened, hoping that the reference would be overlooked. "The General was led to believe that your people had harmful intentions towards our princess. He is quite protective of her."

The rigidness in the boy's muscles relaxed a tinge. "I realize that," he lowered his eyes blinking rapidly, "But we told the truth. Your sith should have recognized that."

"Don't put too much credence…" Ru ventured walking on dangerous ground, "into Lord Ren's ability to recognize truth." His hand trembled a moment before he threw caution to the wind and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "The princess on the other hand sought to prove your innocence."

Relief and appreciation wafted off Resolder, along with a contradictory resentment towards the dark lord.

A flood of sensations tingled under Ru's fingertips and within seconds he knew that the teenager was genuinely a good person that valued justice. "Give the First Order a chance, I assure you that our goal is to ensure the safety of the entire universe."

"And the New Republic?"

Removing his hand from boy's shoulder, Ru flinched and turned to survey the settling group of students filing in the room. "The New Republic stole from the princess her birthright. Corrupt politicians taking bribes allowing criminals to thwart the cause of justice. I lost many family members to the New Republic's so-called freedom methods."

Resolder nodded a few times, "Same with the false Queen Mother."

"Then we have a lot in common."

The students had finally seated, eyes on him. The Lieutenant Commander found himself gulping.

"Don't worry," Resolder caught a sense of his nervousness, "they're pirates by trade. No matter what you say, they won't listen anyway."

Ru chuckled. "Thanks." He stepped forward, raising his voice speaking in flawless but heavily accented Hapan, "Welcome to the First Order. We are pleased that you have accepted the integration process into our ranks and are willing to be part of the future of the universe. In the First Order we pride ourselves on eliminating chaos, and part of that is effective compliance training."

Resolder gave him a look then took a seat on the side of the room, plunking to fold his arms across his chest as if he was more a surly teenager then the polite nobel from before.

"The first portion of this class will encompass a vid illustrating several situations in which," he cleared his throat forcing himself to continue, "sexual harassment can be noted. Please turn your attention to the screen behind me," a screen lowered behind him as he stepped to the side of the room.

He nodded at Aster.

With a grin, his twin started the adapted imperial vid. And to Ru's horror, a characteristic sleazy music erupted over the speakers. The dub in question? Appalling to say the least.

The Lieutenant Commander hustled in a fake businesslike manner over to his brother. "What is this?" He hissed under his breath. The appalling sounds of what could have been mistaken for a very obscene movie voiced over the seemingly ordinary imperial public service announcement… An affront his religious ears.

"What is this?!"

"A Hapan dub?" Aster flashed him a rotten smile.

An overtly dramatic male voice… the kind one found in a third-rate soap opera explained amongst the embarrassing music that discrimination comes in many forms… which would have been fine if it wasn't for the sordid music and the seedy-looking jedi stalking an officer on the screen.

A Hapan dub his afterburner. It was an abomination.

"Why…?" Ru gasped not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"To see that look," his twin poked at his alarmed expression, "on your face."

"You are sick," Ru glared.

To his dismay, the Hapes men cheered the compliance video on.

"Compliance is a group effort," the dramatic male voice explained happily as a group of stormtroopers stomped the trashy jedi on the screen

Ru dropped his head. It was going to be a very long day.

 *****More Apple, Kylo, and Hux stuff is coming soon. I have some set ups to do for certain future scenes. But at any rate, I apologize that these have to be rough drafts. I have little time to work on the story and as a result there may be a lot of typos and grammar errors, some of which are my computer's autocorrect.**

 **I do want to thank you for your continued support and please send in reviews. Thank you!*******


	46. Chapter 46

*****It is less than 2 weeks until the Last Jedi comes out in theaters. I was debating to wait until after the movie came out to continue writing perchance that TLJ may take an entirely different course from what would be expected from the canon movies.**

 **But this is an alternate storyline, and with Apple being involved, everything would be different and veer widely from the movies as it is. So I am going to continue writing and after the movie comes out, we'll see what happens. ******

The erratic beeping of the healing pod's monitors stabilized into a more gentle murmur as the princess circled her hands in the air just inches above the unconscious General Hux. Her orbicular movements were delicate and graceful as though she was performing a dance rather than manipulating the Force particles.

Dr. Wintlock stepped aside, relieved. Allowing Apple to Force Weave General Hux's healing process transformed the rules of the covert affair substantially. The General's… Wintlock cleared his throat, coughing into his fist… _unique_ heritage would remain a secret. Not to mention it spared him the excruciating lassitude of messing with the young man's physiology himself. Peter yet, the princess appeared categorically unphased by the process.

Most Force Users—in the imperial doctor's experience— strangled the Force making harsh repetitions and sharp lines with their fists. But the princess did everything circular. As if almost entreating the Force to work with her.

Fingers were poised in almost feather-like controlled positions, she disregarded the sith typical methods of aggressive fists, clawed grips, or angular straight hands tight enough to blanch their finger-tips. Instead, her hands were soft and pink, only a slight paling of her face could be noticed under the infirmary's lustrous lights.

"Marvelous," he whispered under his breath. Then found himself frowning, concerned for her well-being.

"You could easily do this too," she said after a long moment, eyes still closed.

The corner of her mouth twisted upward into a teasing smirk that relieved his worry, "…if you weren't so stubborn and Gamorrean-headed."

"I have survived decades of intergalactic wars," he bowed slightly at the waist, half-indignant half-amused at her candidness in relating his mannerisms to that of the headstrong porcine species, "being stubborn and…" his tired expression remained superficially stern, "Gamorrean-headed."

With a sweet chuckle, she opened one eye at him, "And more the reason to adore you, doctor."

The old imperial tipped his head back and straightened his uniform, facial scar twitching his eyebrow in his attempt to suppress a blushing smile. He never blushed. Open emotions were worthless in his field. Yet… he allowed himself a small smile… small and amused. Nothing seemed worthless when it involved the princess.

Apple laughed at his response. The jeweled flowers hanging off hair pins at the sides of her head tinkling with her mirth. "You can't hide your goodness from me, P _ache'tra_ ," she used the affectionate _Cheunh_ word for 'daddy' to his delight, "I know you inside and out."

This time, he could not conceal his grin. "So it would seem." She always did sense his thoughts.

With one last playful crinkle of her nose, Apple closed her eyes and returned her full mentation to healing the young general. The vitals monitors responded accordingly. Her healing abilities superseded that of the doctor's mother, whom was known for them among the Chiss.

Stubborn or not, there was no slipstream-way that he could possibly reach Apple's Force potential, even with the kyber crystal augmenting his own healing abilities. No Force User in his perspicacity could match her power in the Force… perhaps saving the Supreme Leader—whom the seasoned imperial doctor avoided like the Mandalorian Plague and no one ever witnessed utilizing any healing techniques.

Reason argued: that as much as the princess donated in the Force, the Supreme Leader took substantially. Dr. Wintlock had his unvoiced suspicions about Snoke. While the Emperor governed other Force Users with a steel fist, Snoke openly welcomed them into his throne room… to drastic results. Susceptible Force Users outside of Kylo Ren were said to barely stagger away from Snoke's presence—if they were able to walk at all. Many died. Many turned into rotting corpses. Many just… disappeared. Only Lord Ren… walked away from the Leader's throne room unharrowed and unscathed. Almost as though for a purposeful that Kylo Ren alone was left undrained.

Wintlock scratched his scar in deep thought. Then again… there was one other. General Hux. Wholly untouched by the Leader's Force Drain. Although Hux was completely unaware of his relationship with the Force, the Supreme Leader was completely cognizant of the young man's… potential. And still spared him. The question remained: why leave only the two alone?

Another burning question: And how long would it be before the Leader preyed on the princess? Wintlock clenched his fists. Not if he could deter it. He stifled a yawn. Head bobbing wearily, he closed his eyes for a parsec.

The weathered imperial jerked his head upward and blinked for a long moment. Sleep deprivation fuddled his thoughts for a long moment, luring him into a lapse of mind. He almost fell asleep standing up—a trait he learned from his residency days. The temptation to lean back against the pod and fall asleep drew heavily at him. He rubbed his eyes in a pinching motion with his thumb and forefinger. So blasted exhausted.

Out of sheer will, Wintlock straightened himself and setting his jaw tight. He would endure. A warm sensation of the Force filled him, strengthening him.

He flicked his dry eyes to the princess. A peculiar yet compelling haze of Force ions misted up from the edges of Apple's form. Like a condensation of visible Force fragments.

"I've never witnessed manifest energy particles within the visible spectrum of light before," he observed more out of trying to keep himself awake then from curiosity.

Locks of her blonde hair floated around her face, lifting in the air as if Apple was isolated in some sort of anti-gravitational field. And the Force itself, formed a distinct cloud about her in a soft bright white glow. Almost as though illuminating her skin from the inside.

"How am I doing it?" She verbalized his mental question without opening her eyes. "It's not me, it's an old Aing-Tii technique. But I am not surprised that you of all people can see the _Li'sha_ … or rather in Basic, the Shift."

Barely noticeable, the energy glow easily could've been missed by non-force sensitive eyes and maybe even by most Force Users, but Wintlock was trained to notice anomalies—and a human generating a faint light _was_ most certainly an anomaly. He would have to be struck blind not to have noticed.

"The Shift?" He inquired.

"You probably should pull up a chair," she said obviously sensing his fatigue.

She moved her hands up and down interchangeably, stirring the golden Force particles in wisps swirling and snaking in the air above the general.

A chair slid across to him, the metal floor screeching revolt.

"I could have fetched a chair myself," he told her wincing at the high-pitched squealing, then took the seat gratefully once it settled soundlessly beside him.

"Yes, but," Apple touched Hux's forehead with two fingers and her own with the other hand. She grinned, "it's so much funner this way."

He leaned back in the chair, ignoring its squeaking protest. "Or rather, nosier."

She laughed heartily, "You so get me."

"The Shift," he re-directed the conversation, "I imagine is different from Sith or Jedi techniques."

His dark eyes squinted as the luminosity increased in intensity around the edges of her body before trickling into the healing pod.

"Entirely," Apple stated, moving her hands in a spheroid motion. "It works on a healer-patient relationship. Completely individual. Never the same, unless the patient and the person healing them are the same. And even then each given day can change it."

She smoothed her hands horizontally then in outward stretching motions over Hux's chest. "It creates a spiritual or essence bond. In other words, the only way to try heal him is that we have to exchange life forces. The problem is that the exchange has some side effects."

"Side effects?" Wintlock sat up straight.

"He might develop an affinity for shoe sales or lace," she half-teased, maintaining her hands hovering above the general, "while I might begin to crave military history or… perhaps, Arkanis ocean snapper. He likes seafood… and brandy… lots of brandy." She made a face. "Gall, I hope I don't end up liking brandy."

Wintlock chuckled. "Then perhaps, you should stop. It would be a pitiful shame if our general sported ribbons and lace, and you developed a taste for …" He smirked, "liquor."

Apple snapped her eyes open and retracted her hands, shuddering. "Ewe." The light circling her body dimmed. "Perhaps you are right."

She pulled her hands out of the pod to fold them, or rather wipe them furiously against her gown. "Please no booze. No booze!" Her hair drifted down back to normal and the Force disappeared from sight.

She begged the universe, "Don't let me become a lush. Please don't let me become a lush."

This time Wintlock gave in. He threw his head back and laughed. Too tired to not find the situation humorous, he slapped his thigh a few times.

Apple gave him a direct look, "Well…" A slight indignant tone filled her voice. "You really should do something about his alcoholism… for his sake," she noted then wiped her hands with a shudder, "and mine."

Wintlock laughed harder.

The princess straightened herself a little miffed at his guffaw… or rather selfishly embarrassed, which she attempted to cover, sputtering, "He'll kill his liver… not to mention those genius brain cells of his. And he's preventing his…"

She stopped herself abruptly and quickly closed her mouth. Folding her hands daintily under her lace sleeves, she smoothed a pious expression on her face. "It's just not good for him. You need to—"

"I already have," the doctor reached into his lab coat to extract a syringe. He spun it in his fingers, tilting the amber liquid inside it. "Every three hours for a total of 12 doses. Prevents alcohol withdrawal, but the side effects include creating a permanent physiological abhorrence to alcohol."

Wrinkling her nose in a winsome smile, Apple tilted her head to the side and lifted her eyebrows. "I'm assuming that you could have used a different agent with less… lasting side effects."

The corner of his mouth curled upward, "That is the fickleness of the art of medicine."

She laughed. "I'm sorry but the word 'fickleness' shouldn't ever be in your vocabulary."

"Basic isn't my native language," he said in a harrumphing tone, but couldn't stifle a haphazard grin, "I am still learning."

She gave him a flat look, "You speak Basic better than I."

He threw his head back and laughed. "True."

His fatigue added a larger degree of humor to their conversation than he typically would have allotted it. Perhaps at that tired moment anything would have been perceived as funny.

Apple scrunched her face up into a petulant pout. "You need sleep," she pointed to the door—or rather at the wall several feet from the door, "I command you to go to bed."

"This time, I cannot oblige you, your highness," Wintlock rubbed his droughty eyes, "Until the General is stable, I cannot sleep. It is my duty."

"Duty?" Her pout deepened into a frown and she swished her upper body side to side, irritatedly shaking her tiny fists at him, "More stubbornness!"

He chuckled. "Perhaps."

Expression melting into tenderness, she relented, "You do amaze me at your dedication." She gently touched his shoulder, voice soft and soothing, "If there was ever anyone so selfless and hardworking, it is you."

Then she whacked his shoulder a few times with the back of her little hand, quite vexed,"But you- you tiresome, old man! You need to take better care of yourself!"

Her eyelashes fluttered frustrated as if refusing to look at him, "How can you possibly take care of others if you are not taken care of yourself first?! Oh, you are so stubborn."

A little petulant girl as always. Never changing.

She turned a peeved puckering on him. "At least finish your snacks. Eat and get strength. If anything happens to you, I-… I-…" Her voice shook before turning diminutive and soft.

She fussed with a jeweled lock of her hair, "I don't know what I'd do." Her eyes glistened sincerely, "I can't lose you. At least take a break and eat, while I'm taking care of Armitage."

Her eyes widened with hope as she leaned towards his face. "I can heal the good general. I'll protect him while you relax and eat. Allow me that."

With a slight flick of her wrist, the chair with him still on it screeched back to the table and spun to face it. Nearly having to hang on for dear life, Wintlock was either too tired and too jostled to argue with her.

He quickly raised his arms out of the way of the table as his chair skated up to it. Slightly agitated at the Force act, he cleared his throat, "Apparently… it shall be as your wish, your highness."

"I can be quite persuasive when I want to be," she moved a two-fingered hand gesture downward.

The lace and ribbon cozy covered teapot hovered into the air as a tea cup slid on its saucer towards him. Carefully the teapot poured still steaming tea into the cup, not spilling a drop.

No complaint escaped his lips as the tea filled his nostrils with a luscious scent of spices and Hapan caramel. The pot lowered beside him. Heater chip attached to the teapot's base flashing, a swirl of candy-flavored steam puffed out of the pot when he lifted its lid to glance inside. Still more than half full.

A warm scone moved to a plate on his left.

"Now you're trying to make me fat," he commented at the glaze covered pastry tempting him with the smell of fruit and sugar.

"Eat," the princess ordered, turning her attention back to their mutual patient.

Wintlock gave in and picked up the demitasse cup, now completely immune to the ribbons hanging off it's handle. Had he been less exhausted, he would have removed the dainty-fringe. But he knew the princess was correct. When he leaned back in the comfortable ribbon-padded chair, he could have cared less about the feminization.

"Ahhh…he's so sweet when he sleeps," Apple said snagging his attention. Bent entirely over the healing pod, her voice tufted out of the apparatus rather impish, "like a broken pin cushion."

Wintlock put down his tea in surprise. The delicate cup clinked against the matching saucer as he paused, "You can see the external fixators?"

"No," she smoothed her fingers along Hux's right arm, tracing his wounds in between the metal, "I can see his essence escaping where they must be sticking into him. Like little wispy-stripes of soul poking out."

"Is this the first time that you have noticed them?" Wintlock inquired, curious as to why she hadn't mentioned it before.

"No," she scrunched down to barely peer over the pod's edge with her eyes, "I just couldn't figure out what they were before."

Like a petulant child, she poked the general's arm with her finger. "Kind of creepy… you should see how they wrap around my finger when I poke them."

Poke. Poke.

"Like little green smoke worms," she explained then talked to the wisps, "Yeah get that metal. Get it."

A consternating frown tugged at the doctor's mouth. It was the first time she had mentioned anything she visualized concerning the general.

"Intriguing." Wintlock twisted his upper body to the side, relaxing his arm on the table as he took the scone."What else do you see?"

"The Force funnels into his chest," she leaned her waist over the open edge of the pod the glanced back at the doctor pointing at Hux's heart, "here. It looks like he's converting it for his own use."

Wintlock stiffened slightly. "Oh?"

"Come on now," she chastised, "You know as well as I do that he's a rapid healer. Super soldier program? Genetical manipulation?"

The doctor shoved the scone in his mouth, refusing to answer.

Apple shook her head dismissively, "Meh, I don't care what the First Order does in its science labs… Maybe genetic manipulation is the rage these days, but I really don't know why you haven't said anything about his allergy."

"Allergy?" The old physician choked on the scone. His shoulders tensed, but he forced them to relax, settling back in his chair.

"Well.. technically, I almost missed it entirely—I'm still not used to deciphering what I see with the Force," she reiterated then grumbled slightly defensive, "You try explaining a jumbled mess of colors and visual symbols that no one has ever before described in literature."

"Valid argument," he smeared clotted cream on the remainder of his scone. Citrus and sugary spices wafted into the air in response.

Satisfied, the princess smiled with a regal nod of her head then continued, "At first, I had thought that it was just a product of the Sith-smackdown. Some people who get hit with Force lightning have a similar reaction," she put her palm on the general's chest, "but this manifested differently… like a wounded animal growling cornered and angry….then I realized that his immune system was raging in there."

"He had a significant reaction to the Bacta," Dr. Wintlock explained, taking another bite of his scone. Closing his eyes relishing the flavors, he chewed slowly.

After swallowing, he added, "I am surprised it still lingers."

A concerned frown curled the corners of her delicate mouth downward then she surveyed the general's chest with her blind eyes. "He probably swallowed some of the Bacta. Yep, he did." She pinched her fingers in the air above Hux stomach then dragged it upwards to his throat.

Despite being deep under sedation, the general began coughing and sputtering.

"That's right," she dragged further, using her other hand to Force lift his upper body slightly, "hack that gross loogey up."

Like a rag doll, his upper body floated in the air seemingly lifeless except his coughing. In a few gurgling coughs, the remnants of the Bacta along with stomach bile spurted out of his mouth.

Dr. Wintlock shot out of his seat, "Careful, he could aspirate!"

"On it." She grabbed the air in a finger-circling motion over his chest. "He already had some his lungs, though."

"It wasn't on the scans."

Hux coughed up bloody phlegm mixed with Bacta.

"It entered his alveoli," Wintlock noted.

"It's like sand, it gets everywhere," Apple said as she tried to clear the rest of it from Hux, "I'm just surprised that he sucked it in— the respirators are supposed to prevent that."

"Angioedema. His face swelled and the respirator fit was…no longer appropriate," the doctor scratched the back of his neck, then after a long pause, he threw out his hand, voice sounding defensive to even his own ears. "In all my years, I have never seen a single case of a Bacta allergy. It was entirely…unexpected."

"It's not your fault—you didn't know," she smoothed her hand in a circle as Hux wretched up more of the substance probably along with half of his working lung, "I've only seen one before myself."

Wintlock started. Did he just hear her correctly?

She cooed at the unconscious patient, "That's a good general. Keep it coming—Upchuck that goo. Yeah, that's right. Spit it out."

Projectile puke shot out of him. Some hit the other end of the pod, the rest ran down his chest as he heaved.

Apple made a face. "Wow, that's a starship load of Bacta—no wonder he kept enacting his rapid healing sequences on regular intervals. He was trying to recycle the sludge."

The old physician dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes to stave an exasperated headache. Nothing could be hid from the princess. Nothing.

"Now, that's better," she cooed to the vomit-and-phlegm-covered-patient, telekinetically helping him settle back down after his sputtering and coughing ceased. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes you are."

Dr. Wintlock scoured a hand over his tired face. If only Hux knew what was happening… The princess rubbing his back while he puked foul-smelling goo all over himself… The absurdity of it would surely kill the young man.

"Yes," Apple cooed gently, "that bad mean Bacta was nasty, wasn't it?" She grabbed a linen cloth and wiped his chin. "Do you feel better?" her mother-ese continued as she patted Hux's lips with the towel, "Yes, you do."

The vitals monitors responded immediately, and the superficial wounds on the general's face and arms began to heal rapidly.

Wintlock bounded to her side, "Excuse me, your highness," he quickly steered her away from his patient and shut the pod, instructing it, "Initiate patient cleaning."

A gentle whirring sound erupted as the bodily fluids were extracted from the vestibule and harmless organic disinfectants poured in the vestibule. Small mechanical scrubbers gently cleaned the general, wiping filth from him with sterilizing soaps designed to leave him bacteria-free and his wounds drying.

Wintlock watched the process then shifted his eyes to her. Despite his efforts, she plastered her nose to the pod's acrylic, eyes wide.

"It's like a rainbow beating up a tidal wave in there," she exclaimed rather inquisitive.

"You said you have seen a previous case of a Bacta allergy?" He changed the subject to the issue at hand, "In whom?"

Apple pushed away from the transparent case and answered solemnly, "My friend Kae'lis."

Wintlock's gasp choked in his own throat. _The halfling_. He shouldn't allow himself to assume, but if the connection…?

A hope glittered in her large eyes. "Do you think he's still alive? I hope Kae'lis is still alive." Her hope dimmed slightly, "I haven't sensed him since I woke."

It didn't take much deduction to realize that she meant after being released from the carbonite.

Wintlock measured his words carefully, "Unknown, your highness."

The princess nodded, tinkling the jeweled flowers hanging off the hair pins.

"Kae'lis was a halfling from what region?" The doctor asked.

"From the Kathol Rim, of course," she returned to being riveted by the healing pod's cleaning process. Now the general was being scrubbed more vigorously by the mechanical arms as stripes of organic solvents were laid across him.

She pointed at a stripe. "I can see those," it was a goofily happy grin that almost made the fatigued doctor laugh, "they look like orange ribbons."

The organic solvents were actually white.

But Wintlock wasn't interested in debating the color of a solvent. He had another agenda, "Was it Kae'lis' mother or his father that was human?"  
"His mother," she answered against the glass. "His father was the Chief or rather the King of the eastern Weh's'te tribe—The Thunder and Sky clan."

"Force-wielding species?"

"Everyone in the Kathol Rim wields the Force," the explanation all but missed the 'duhhh,' "No sentient beings can survive there without it."

Dr. Wintlock paused a long moment, contemplating her words. From the stories of the Kathol Rim, travelers were rendered insane by the strange electromagnetic field surrounding the region. Stories of feeling unseen insects crawling on their skin, or experiencing hallucinations of the dead, elaborated legends of the region. A sector of the galaxy protected by the mysterious Aing-Tii monks— A reclusive species that despised slave traders and could appear anywhere in a form of Force teleportation.

"An Aing-Tii?" He asked.

"No, the Aing-Tii were an entirely different species altogether," she answered distracted by the pod. "And not exactly humanoid. The Weh's'te on the other hand are very humanoid. Only our eyes and natural hair colors can distinguish us from them. Mixing between humans and Weh's'te is normal."

Crouched against the glass, her eyes tracked its cleaning process, "Technology has much improved so much since my days."

"How did they reproduce—the Weh's'te?"

She stopped and stood to give him a funny look. "Like everyone else… Test tubes."

Wintlock bit back a chuckle. That answer was more the result of a naive and innocent mind than an accurate statement. Imperial edicts only knew how well Vader kept her sheltered.

"Children could appear at any time," she explained, "not like us humans of course: One test tube and a woman has a baby nine months later. For the Weh's'te, they could have one years later…decades even, or have one formed in six months. I've seen one child formed from a test tube set 20 years earlier, or so I was told by the King himself." She nodded with a glowing expression, "He adored me. I was his favorite human."

A smile closed her eyes with happy crinkles at the corners, "I remember when I was little there was one year that several babies appeared everywhere all at once. The Clansmen have a saying that when it is time for a child to come then they will come, otherwise they will remain…"

"Remain where?"

"Remain in the belly," she flashed him a funny look then waved the back of her hand at him, "You're a doctor, you know full well where babies remain, formed or unformed. They stay in the mother's belly or in a test tube. But there's a name for it…"

She tapped the healing pod as if to jog her own memory, "What is the word in Basic? Oh yes, 'dormant'! The baby will remain dormant until it is his or her time to come. Isn't that wonderful?" She beamed, "Babies could be born at any moment." Her eyes widened, "Like a surprise!"

Wintlock took all the information in. After all those years… the answer had been there the entire time…right in front of him. His eyes shifted to his patient then back to the princess's happy face.

"Your highness," he said seriousness rising, "Did Kae'lis favor any human females during his stay with the Empire? Any at all? Even in passing?"

She thought for a long moment. "I don't know. He was always busy arguing with Sith… Kae'lis was too laid back for their taste—so they were always trying to tick him off, but never did and they regretted trying at all. They shouldn't have messed with him to start with. And you'd think that they'd learn their lesson and leave him alone, but jealous jerks are jealous jerks."

She paused, tilting her had to the side, "But Kae'lis was such a solitary creature. If he wanted socialization at all, he would ask me to sing for him. Certain songs would stimulate a tribesman's energy and wellbeing." She nodded her explanation then added, "They needed them in order to survive… vocalization or sound vibrations increased their strength and metabolism…"

"What sort of songs?" Either Wintlock was too tired to resit the tangential temptation or he somehow felt the information was important to his investigation.

Apple gave the pod her back, leaning against it as if considering his question deeply. Finally, she opened her mouth and sang a perfectly pitched, soft but decidedly alien song. Not typically one for music, Wintlock found himself intently listening. The princess was a beautiful singer… a gentle soprano voice, perfect on every syllable with a soothing sound… But that wasn't the intriguing part. Behind her, there was a reaction in the healing pod. A faint glow erupted on Hux's skin and his eyelids began to flicker open.

Dr. Wintlock lunged toward the pod, hitting the sedative touch pad. Hux's eyes closed and became still. Leaning his side over the acrylic, he blocked her view.

"Any others know those songs?" He cut her off mid-Aria, rather lamely.

Not bothered by the interruption in the least, she shrugged. "I taught them to my courtiers. Songs are important to me. That and I was hoping that Kae'lis might find other friends, but," she shook her head, "I don't know if he preferred anyone above any another…and even if he did, the ladies' families would've been deadly against it."

She sighed sadly, "I just wanted him to be happy. I know it was his duty to protect me, but I had hoped that he would find happiness, to have friends other than me. But he stayed pretty much to himself. I mean his social isolation was bad enough that even if there was a ball, he preferred to staying in the corner watching over me, keeping me safe if there was a threat in sight, rather than dancing or intermingling."

"You said, his duty to protect you?" Wintlock inquired not too convinced that someone from outside the empire would consider it a duty, "Of course, your highness. You are the imperial princess."

Apple chewed on her bottom lip in deep thought, "No, that wasn't it at all. Because as a child I saved his life—somehow he became caught in tangle-bush, you know the kind that smothers you before trying to eat you…"

Wintlock frowned. No, fortunately he had never been privy to that experience.

She continued, "and to make matters worse, it was just outside a Venter-beast's den. Those creatures can be quite nasty on their own but when you're caught in a tangle bush," she made a slashing motion with her arm, "you might as well be beast bait."

"I could imagine," the doctor said flatly.

"And even more daunting, his lightning powers were useless against the bush. I was only three at the time, but somehow was still able to force pull him from the bush before he was eaten by the Venter. Nearly was eaten myself too."

She shook her head. "It must have been adrenaline because to this day, I don't know how I managed to get us both out of there. The bush just… obeyed me and released him then attacked the massive Venter, claws, horns and all."

She hugged herself, pausing in the memory, then continued, "He was bound to me after that. His father even desired that we would marry," she looked at the doctor pointedly, "even if I hadn't saved him.. there still was this prophecy that our families were meant to be united to procure the balance—but we never saw each other in that way… We loved each other more like brother and sister. I adored him, but," she shook her head, "neither one of us could love the other in the marital way. Besides, my grandfather…" she turned her head away, "He— Well, my Imperial grandfather preferred that my marriage make a political alliance. And he forbade any of his family from marrying a non-human, even a halfling."

The doctor nodded a few times in full understanding.

"Are you sure that he had no love interests?" he asked after a moment. Considering the circumstantial evidence and Hux's response to her Weh's'te song, asking her to clarify Kae'lis's possible love interests might have been overkill.

"I don't know," she looked up at the weathered imperial, "But I hope so. I hope he found someone and became blissfully happy with her. Because if he found a love, it would be for life. The Weh's'te generally mated for life—Once in love with a female, they never deviated even in death."

The doctor tried a different tactic, "Were there any ladies that you taught the songs to?" His medical need to know the facts drove him… or rather his exhaustion.

"Everest Ju'kel— General Ju'kel's daughter." Apple listed, holding up her fingers just peeking them out from behind her silken and lace voluminous sleeves, "Seli Akain— the niece of Minister Jobe Sege. Julien Whi —my lady-in-waiting, and Villette Tarkin, Grand Moff Tarkin's niece."

Wintlock whipped his head to face her at that last name. "Vilette Tarkin? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She moistened her lips and turned back to the pod as if trying compose herself. "I had been wrapped up in my own concerns with all the dreams I was having about the Empire falling apart that I hadn't paid much attention to his needs…So I encouraged the others to sing for him. I wanted him to be happy, but I was also too distracted to help him…I was too worried about my father: I saw him die in flames in too many dreams."

Apple dropped her head and closed her eyes tightly against the memories a tear escaping her lashes.

"Your highness…" Wintlock suddenly felt guilty for pushing her, "I apologize, I shouldn't have asked."

"No," she composed herself, "I needed to talk about this. I was too wrapped up in my own problems to worry about my friend. It was unfair to him… I was unfair to him. I neglected Kae'lis when his need for solace was growing every day… Being away from the Kathol Rim was wearing him down and I had others attend to him, blindly thinking that I could save my father or the empire if I just…" She bit her bottom lip, more tears streaming down her cheeks.

She stepped towards him, curling into his chest to cry. "But there was nothing that I could do… Nothing."

Awkwardly, Wintlock patted her head completely unsure how to comfort a child. What could he say? He settled with a lame…

"There. There."

Despite her tears, Apple chuckled, "you haven't changed."

The healing pod opened with a hiss and a tuft of disinfectant vapor, drawing their attention.

"And asking about the past as a means of consolation…" She composed herself, smoothing the front of her brocade white dress.

She gave him a directed look, "…is not typic for you, is it?"

Dr. Wintlock stiffened. "Your highness?" He pushed his thoughts deep into the confines of his mind and feigned ignorance.

"Let me tell you a story," she waved the healing pod's vapor out of her face before tracing a moisture line in it's acrylic through the condensation, "a certain brilliant doctor has a certain patient with exceptional healing abilities, an allergy to Bacta, and a strange potential for the force…which have remained hidden… until now."

Wintlock held his ground, fighting the urge to retreat from her observation.

"…and this certain doctor," the princess's finger drew small swirls in the acrylic's condensation, "is curious as to how these traits cold have possibly manifested in a supposedly human patient, even though he most likely has made sure that they remained hidden to others… to protect a cause. No. To protect the patient, because he cares for him like a son. And the patient…"

She continued her tracing, "…is completely unaware of these 'traits' himself. Am I wrong?"

The doctor pierced his lips.

"Don't answer that," Apple held up her hand. "I am speaking allegorically and I'd hate for you to have to chastise me about producing facts, when I am just telling a story."

He nodded. "Of course, your highness."

"Theoretically," she stressed, "there is some question over this patient. And a brilliant medical mind cannot leave questions unanswered, especially rare physiological anomalies in a most beloved patient—even if the details could possibly…compromise," her eyebrows lifted as she exaggerated the word, "the entire clandestine situation."

He didn't respond. Just watched her.

She made her way to a nearby sink… or rather to the water dripping from the faucet. "But the question of how the patient could come by such… 'traits'… is much too tempting to ignore."

Feeling blindly around under the faucet until the sensor flickered and poured water on her hands, she continued, "And there might be a chance, no matter how slim.. of the patient in question having a strain of non-human DNA. But the knowledge of this… atypical DNA—if found out—could cost the patient and maybe even the doctor, everything."

Apple fumbled blindly for the soap and grabbed the waterless hand sanitizer instead. "So the physician… in the story," she clarified before sniffing the sanitizer gel, obviously realizing that it wasn't the soap, "killed a man… an innocent man…"

Wintlock opened his mouth to protest.

"I mean, it's not like there is a certain princess… in the story,"clarified again, "who can sense any and all deaths aboard the ship she's on."

The old imperial closed his mouth and dropped his head.

"But the doctor had to protect the patient's secret when certain injuries made the traits manifested. And perhaps the man wasn't so innocent, in the fact that perhaps he couldn't keep the secret… or wouldn't…"

Wintlock watched her fumbled around the sink until her fingers activated the soap dispenser's sensor. White suds sprayed out onto the dorm of her hand.

"Mmm," she sniffed the soap, "Seaside breeze," she commented then returned to her ''allegory,' "But one thing happened that not even the intelligent doctor could have foreseen… the patient suddenly had a peculiar allergy, similar to a friend of the princess's and she realized what really was going on early on. But she… being a good girl of course, waited for the doctor to include her in on the secret because she knows that he knows…"

She finished washing her hands, shaking the liquid from them. The moisture drops lifted off her hands into the air hovering around her for a moment before collecting into the sink, leaving her hands dry.

"That she can keep secrets and would be a very good ally in sharing the burden. Instead, he enquired about her friend, thinking he was being sneaky. But the princess was too smart for that and just played along…still waiting for him to trust her, because the physician only knows that she had kept his secret for years."

He let a slight smirk twitch the corner of his mouth upward.

"You following so far?" Apple fiddled with her left sleeve, fixing the ribbons on it perfunctorily.

"Of course," he replied with a knowing smile.

She lifted her index finger for emphasis, "Then let's just consider the similarities between the patient and the princess's friend. Rapid healing abilities and above average intelligence. Perhaps even enhanced reflexes. And a peculiar allergy to Bacta. Rare. But not a complete connection in and of itself. But let's make a summation for the princess…" she nodded at him for clarification of course, "the one in the story's sake…"

A detective-esque expression on her face, she paced past Wintlock before spinning on her heel, "Say the patient's mother was one of the women whom… the princess had taught certain songs to…Certain songs, if sung correctly could possibly, though not always, produce certain feelings in a certain young man…?"

She grabbed her elbow with her other hand and smoothed her right knee against her left leg with a self-consciously sad expression.

Shaking her head of it, she continued, "And let's say perhaps, the good doctor—knowing the patient all his life—also noticed certain other peculiar traits? In… say the patient's youth? Traits that alcohol hid particularly well."

She searched Wintlock's face with her somewhat blind eyes. But he heard firm, his expression was impassible.

"Perhaps, untoward colorings of his eyes as a child, maybe blue when blissfully happy or green when angry?"

The doctor watched her make her way back over to the healing pod.

"Or maybe perhaps, the doctor witnessed the patient in his youth develop almost irrational feelings for any female almost akin to an addiction?" She leaned towards the physician, eyes wide, "I mean, seriously and irrationally attached to a girl at all and never deviated from being,"—made air quotes with her fingers—"'in love' with her?"

Wintlock could tell from her curious expression that she hadn't yet figured out that the exact details to that aspect fortunately for the young general.

"Because the theoretical species that the princess's friend comes from mates for life and never deviates in death…" Apple covered her face for a long moment before continuing, "Which if the princess's friend did develop feelings for one of her ladies-in-waiting, it would form a psychic bond between the two of them… an unbreakable psychic and physiological bond that can't be severed. And if her family caught wind of the relationship…?"

After a long pause, she glanced at him almost shaken by her thoughts, "Her parents surely would have immediately separated them, causing both extreme mental and physical anguish. A torturous separation of great agony."

"Yet, if such a relationship did take place, it would've been several years before the patient was even born," Wintlock engaged her theory, knowing full well that she wouldn't cease until she made her point.

"But babies are born when they are meant to be born."

"Even if the patient had a perfectly human elder brother?"

"Even so."

Dr. Wintlock straightened himself, moving his head back away from her conjecture. He never should have allowed her in the infirmary.

"And I imagine, the doctor… you know the one in the allegorical story…" she gave him a pointed look from under her eyelashes, "witnessed some other extraordinary but strangely peculiar abilities in the patient?"

Dr. Wintlock didn't answer her. He knew it was futile.

"Maybe even abilities to control a certain element? Lightning? Thunder? Air or Soil? Or maybe a small affinity for water?" Her blind eyes searched his face.

His expression remained stoic.

"Or maybe even pyrotechnic abilities with fire?"

His scar twitched subconsciously.

"Fire? On a starship. Your highness," he forced on a professional candor, "the theoretical man would be a threat to any ship he was aboard with such a fantastical trait."

Earnestly, he gestured towards the table, "Please have a seat and reflect realistically on what you are saying. You're making a flawed assumption based on a few loose and circumstantial coincidences."

"Assumption, my dear Doctor?" Eyes wide, she feigned innocence again, "I'm just telling a story."

"Yes. Of course," Wintlock 'played along' with her game, "But the patient in the 'story,' perchance his intelligence and healing were a result of an enhanced genetics program, and have nothing to do with alien heritage?"

"Perhaps…" She smiled, "the princess in the story would wish that be the case, because there are dangerous side effects of the patient staying away from the… say the Drathmar Rim."

"What dangerous side effects?" Wintlock felt suddenly alarmed.

Apple ventured a few steps away from the healing pod. "If the patient in question was the product of the princess's friend's love… then he'd probably be the only living heir to the her friend's clan. Because…" she dragged out the word, "if her friend was truly in love with the patient's mother… then he would never ever," she slashed her arm to the side, "and I mean never ever marry anyone else. So only the patient would be born of their union. And the entire tribe would be dependent upon that child."

"Dependent?" His eyes searched the room, mind reeling.

"It's not like a normal kingship," the princess went to stroke locks of her hair in an uncharacteristic anxiety, but stopped herself with a long exhale of breadth, "It's a biogenetic leadership where the entire tribe focuses upon the King to make decisions… Hence the entire wisdom and intelligence of the tribe goes into the royal family."

Wintlock watched her pace.

"The royalty are geniuses by birth. But its not that the other's can't think, instead, they are a collective mindset—if Kae'lis, I mean the princess's friend," she corrected herself before continuing, "dies without an heir then…" She covered her face with her silky sleeves as if to stabilize herself.

She faced him, decidedly ditching the allegory. "It's not like my situation where I can just quit being a princess. A Weh's'te royal can never quit… They are essential to the well-being of the entire tribe…not to mention the well-being of the planet itself. And if they don't return from time to time, they start to suffer… especially when separate from the collective. The entire life of the tribe depends on him or her. Cumulatively it depends on the royal for survival."

"An unfortunate characteristic," Wintlock tried to assuage her. "Fortunately humans, like the general, are different."

"Chiss are different," she countered, "Every species has its differences. None better or worse than any other. While Chiss and humans are psychically independent, the Weh's'tse are not. And if the general has even an ounce of Weh's'te royal blood in him…?"

Apple shook her head again, this time more forcibly as if to shake herself from the thought of it, "It will result in drastic consequences for him and them, if he isn't united with at least one clansmen."

Alarmed, the seasoned physician moistened his lips choosing his next words carefully, "What consequences?"

Concern caused her to pause. "If Armitage has even the remotest drop of Weh's'tse blood in him then he needs to go to the Rim. He needs to bond with someone from the tribe…"

She reached her hand in to touch the general's cheek, closing her eyes for a moment. "Or he'll start showing signs of severe mental distress. And then he'll slowly start to lose his mind. Has he down anything irrational since his twenty-first birthday? Anything extreme?"

The doctor didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Gasping, she opened her eyes, "The Starkiller." She closed her eyes again and dropped her head, "Dear heavens. This will not end well for him… nor for them. There are reasons why they hardly ever leave the Kathol Rim."

The old doctor slowly sat back down at the table, changing the subject. "Why did their prince leave the Rim in the first place if this was such a… complication?"

"Because of me," she practically cried, "It's all my fault—I wanted to find my father and Kae'lis was bound to me. He wouldn't have left the region if it wasn't for me. He would have stayed where he was supposed to be. But I was selfish: after my mother died, I wanted to be with my father. So Kae'lis took me to him. Following me…" she dropped her head, "to keep me safe."

"Your highness…" Wintlock shifted in his seat, trying to figure out the best way other than sedating her with an amnesiac drug to keep her from continuing to probe deeper into this.

"I will not be silenced on this matter!" She snapped for the first time in all the years he had known her.

He jerked his upper body back from her, sensing her power.

Guilty at her outburst,the princess brushed a long curl behind her ear and apologized, "Sorry, I didn't mean to take that tone, but we must do something for Armitage. It's the least I can do for Kae'lis."

"And what if you're wrong?"

She tilted her head to the side, giving him a slit eyed look that practically said, 'do I look dumb to you,' without single word.

"You know full-well I'm right," she told him firmly.

Wintlock made a last ditch effort to dissuade her, "You are making loose associations, your highness." He snapped, "Ones that could destroy the General's career if believed!"

Apple recoiled from his words, then wrung her hands. "Then we are in a definite conundrum, doctor. It's either his career or his life."

The seasoned imperial closed his mouth and sank further in his seat, fatigue weighing more upon him at that moment than ever before. He knew what it was like to be an old man. A very old man.

"I'll reach out to Kae'lis," she decided, "if he is alive, he'll know how to proceed."

Wintlock scoured his tired face with his hands. "All that has been done for him will be for nought. Even the Grand Admiral Hux has been kept ignorant of this…"

He looked at her, giving in, "it will be horrific for the boy if the Grand Admiral discovers his true heritage."

"It's a risk that we are going to have to take," Apple smoothed the front of her brocade dress, "Besides we can keep everything a secret for the time being." She smiled devilishly, "What the Grand Admiral doesn't know won't hurt him." Her smile wavered, "But we have a lot of work ahead of us."

She brushed her fingers along the healing wounds on Hux's face. "With your treatment, he'll stop the alcohol… and his abilities will begin to manifest again. I will help him gain control of them as well as work on augmenting his healing process. And I will sing the songs of return for him daily… it will slow his… uh, how do you say it in Basic? Separation stress?"

Wintlock just shrugged. She was asking the wrong person for that clarification.

The princess waved her hand of it and continued, "Say, I am studying to be a nurse if you have to. It will give me a good reason to spend time in the infirmary with him… I doubt Kylo will believe it, but the rest of the crew will. Either that or they will think that I care for him."

She twisted her upper body to glance at the increasingly tired physician, "How much does Armitage know?"

"Nothing, your highness," Wintlock felt the weight of it all. Years of protecting the boy. And the princess? She discovered it within moments… He failed. "He knows absolutely nothing."

"You didn't fail," she read the doctor's thoughts, "His poor Mother and poor Kae'lis. What their lives must have been like? Was his step-father kind to him—Brendol Hux?"

"He was a man of the imperial military."

Apple closed her eyes and tipped her face to the floor. "Poor Armitage."

She opened her eyes, sucking in a steadying breadth, "My nephew mustn't know. No one else can know… at least not yet. I'll come up with a reason somehow to get us back to the Kathol Rim… or at least somewhere, Kae'lis can meet us… for his and for Armitage's sake." She trembled slightly, "This is bad. Real bad."

"Don't hold it against him, your highness."

"Hold it against him? No, doctor," She smiled kindly, a tender and loving expression, "You know more than anyone that I don't mind mixed heritage. I'm concerned more about getting him home in time. Fortunately, if Kae'lis is still alive, he will send assistance. Armitage is essential to the well-being of the entire planet… the Weh's'tse won't fail us."

Wintlock relaxed a little, slouching back in his chair. The fatigue and stress overwhelmed him. But the relief was even more terrifying.

Her eyebrows softened, "Oh, my darling P _ache'tra,_ you are such a good man—you have held so many secretive burdens over the years. At least let me bear this one with you. No longer will you hold this burden alone. Nor will he," she glanced back down at Hux's unconscious form, "I will be there for you two."

Apple reached inside to touch his forehead. "It must have been meant to be this way, otherwise our good general never would have been born."

She brushed the stubby hair at his hairline with her fingers. "He does feel much healthier now—his body doesn't have to amp up his healing anymore…Now it can work naturally…" Her expression turned even more tender and she smiled, "He'll wake up anytime now."

"What if he has develops feelings for a female?" Wintlock asked out of curiosity.

Startled, Apple flicked her wide eyes to his face. "Has he?"

"Unknown," he lied, then added, "He was raised in the Arkanis academy. There were hardly any females present."

She considered the situation carefully, "Well… there is Captain Phasma. She's—"

"Hardly a woman in his eyes," he cut that assumption asunder.

Apple exhaled a puff of air from her cheeks, closing her eyes relieved. "Then he'll be just fine. It only becomes a problem, if external forces separate the the lovers."

Wintlock knit his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

"While an infatuation in a Weh's'tse male can be…. quite, uh… distracting for him…" Apple attempted to delicately explain, "Almost like an obsession. As long as the object of his affection doesn't return it, he should be fine. He'll still be extract himself. If she chooses another before they can establish a link then he'll be free to love another. If his loved one choses him, then they'll be happy with each other, unless like I said before, they are separated by outside means."

She tipped her head with a small knowing smile, "Doctor, falling in love is going to be the least of his problems. I'm surprised that you bring it up."

Surprised? Wintlock moistened his dry lips, then took a long drink of tea. It was surprising that the most obvious aspect of the General's situation was the only thing that she hadn't accurately hypothesized.

"This tea is superb," he commented, changing the subject.

The princess opened her mouth to happily respond, but stopped, turning her attention to the doorway. A bright smile spread across her mouth, "Kylo!"

Hairs on the back of the physician's neck stood up. He, on the other hand, wasn't so thrilled to see the doors hiss open and reveal the Dark Lord.

Chipper as ever, Apple pronounced over to her nephew. And within a moment, she had him succumbing to an eager hug and a kiss on his cheek just below his scar.

"I've missed you," she held onto him, grinning up at his face. Her smile wavered slightly, "Wait. What happened to your helmet?"

Lord Ren stiffened harshly like a rancor caught in a corner. "It broke."

"Ahhh…" she replied then proceeded to smooth the edges of his black uniform, but didn't comment otherwise.

The silence obviously needling the dark knight, he turned his eyes away from her bursting, "The Supreme Leader commands an audience with you."

Dr. Wintlock went stock still, cup frozen an inch away from his lips.

"Ahhh…" she continued to straighten her nephew's uniform. "Then of course, we shall oblige him." She patted the dark knight's upper arms with her palms, "He is the First Order's ruler, is he not?"

Her nephew didn't meet her eyes. "Yes."

"Good." She popped her hands against his chest with a warm and enthusiastic expression, "I shall go change into something beautiful." She headed for the wall instead of the door, stopping to glance over her shoulder at him. "Oh, could you have Captain Phasma make sure that my ladies-in-waiting do not use my bathroom?"

Kylo blinked rapidly, completely blindsided by her tangent. "What?" He scrunched his face irritated at being asked. "No."

Apple ignored his agitation and prattled on, picking at the creases in her silk sleeves. "They completely wrecked my quarters. It took the cleaning crew two hours to clear out the trash they left. And," she stressed, "that was after the cleaning droids blew up."

She glanced at his tan face quite impertinent, "I mean, seriously! How could three women have left so many candy wrappers everywhere? The cleaning crew were blatantly exhausted, enough that a couple of them were driven to tears. Grown men cried to me. To me! One of the men even said he saw things," her eyes widened spookily, "that grown men should never have to see. I think the ladies' Mount Wrapper-fodder scarred them for life."

The dark knight smirked, obviously despite himself. "They are your handmaids. You handle them."

She threw back her head with a gasping groan, stomp-stepping her feet in frustration. "Fine. Be that way. Don't take on some of my responsibilities." She grinned at him. "So selfish." Now she was teasing.

Her expression brightened devilishly further and she snatched Kylo's wrist, "Come," she commenced to drag him towards the healing pod.

Wintlock started, clanging his cup down on the saucer. He went to stand.

"See what I have done," she practically had to use both hands to drag the dark knight further into the intensive care unit, "All by myself, I might add."

The doctor settled, relaxing.

She pointed inside the pod at the sedated general. His wounds had largely healed except for his swollen yellowed periorbital area, scars in various stages of healing, the bruising over his fractured ribs, and the external fixators.

"You should have seen him before I started healing him. He was a complete mess."

Kylo's nostrils flared in surging rage. "You wasted your energy on him?!"

She gasped, and lightly smacked his upper arm with a giggle, "Shame on you! I didn't waste my energy— I was practicing the Force and did a good job too." She beamed up at her nephew.

"I thought you avoided practicing, because you were too lazy," he countered more than a little miffed.

"I am lazy," she admitted, "but I can play a little here and there, can't I? Besides, he looks much better now…" she said, then made a face at the general's haphazard appearance, "okay, he looks just a little better."

"You should have left him to suffer!" The dark knight glared seething. His breaths grew haggard increasing in animosity as he clenched and unclenched his fists, "He doesn't deserve your regard! He's pure filth!"

Dr. Wintlock wrapped his hand around a butter knife, preparing himself to act if things got out of hand.

The Dark Lord jabbed his gloved index finger at the doctor, other hand on his saber, "You stay out of this! No better yet," he took a step towards the older man with a cold-blooded smile, "please, go ahead. I'd prefer to see the outcome."

"Oh Kylo," she stopped him as if reproachfully preventing him from some minor tit-for-tat rather than the murder in his eyes, "leave the poor doctor alone. You know very well how he favors me."

The dark knight snapped his attention back to her, "He had volatile intentions."

She smiled up at him placatingly, "He's an imperial. Of course he did. Would you hire an imperial that didn't? He's loyal to me to the last."

Lord Ren fidgeted, shifting his weight, torn between hostility and considering her assessment of the situation. He appeared more harrowed than typical and more on edge, yet the princess cooed softly to him. "But he started the offense."

She gently fussed with tidying his uniform some more, and tilted her head way back to look up at him in a femininely submissive manner, "But you are the grandson of the powerful and esteemed Lord Darth Vader. Do you honestly think it worthy of your time to engage in such a paltry provocation?"

The dark knight hesitated further, the shadowy bags under his eyes accentuating his disconcertment. "I do what I please."

"Come now," she prattled on, straightening the edges of his outer tunic, "he is just an old loyal man, who considered the need to protect me," she smiled tenderly and almost tittering, "even if it was from you."

Kylo paused, more unsure.

Apple let out an adorable tiny chuckle then prattled on, "I suppose it is only a natural reaction from other men—when in your powerful presence—to deem you dangerous and at the same time deem me defenseless."

She tittered openly, tipping her head back further and tinkling the ornaments adorning her platinum hair. "The Great Stars only know how dangerous you can be."

Her mirthful expression turned into a self-incriminating put as she tugged on her dresses ribbons, "And you know how, I am such a troublesome diminutive creature—always needing protection wherever I go. Always stumbling over some unseen droid or other. Is it not the natural course for a loyal imperial to desire to protect me… even if it is from you? You do realize that you were letting off some very powerful Sith vibes powerful enough that even a non-force user could sense?"

She ventured away from him in a sashaying motion that was more playful and submissive then flirtatious, "And who could pose a more powerful presence than you, seeing as you are my father's true heir."

With a slight tilt of her chin over her shoulder and a twinkling of her eyelashes, she won. The knight was forced to glance away lest be reeled in by the perfect little smile she gave.

Lord Ren removed his hand from his saber, relenting.

Even Wintlock—in a profound relief—had to admit that she was correct on the matter. He put aside the butter knife and took another sip of the tea. Somehow, she always managed to evoke in men a great desire to protect her, whether she needed it or not. And the knight's presence indeed would put any soul on edge.

"And you?" Lord Ren eyed the princess's face, "You didn't believe that I would—"

She laughed heartily. "Stars no, but if any unforeseen and untimely death did come my way, I would hope that it would be by your hand… and yours alone."

Both Kylo and the doctor stiffened.

Hardly phased by their reaction, she traced her fingers along the pod's acrylic, contemplating, "Or maybe even Luke's." An indignant swelled within her, "It would be an insult to yours and my honor, if anyone less powerful did kill me."

The dark knight's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Disturbed by her suggestion, he raked his gloves through his dark hair and exhaled. "You are infuriating."

She grinned, "I know," then teased him further, "and that is why you simply adore me."

"I despise you," he grumbled, hardly convincing even to the old physician.

"Oh, that's the sweetest thing you could have said," she reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, "I love you too."

Blinking rapidly against her changeable nature, the dark lord attempted to regroup himself and pivoted away from her. "Yet, you went behind my back to heal this," he threw out his hand at the sleeping general, "piece of banta fodder."

She rolled her head with a groan and shuddered her shoulders frustratedly. "How was that behind your back? Can't you sense all my doings aboard this ship, as I can yours?"

He spun back to her index finger lifted and mouth open, ready to chastise in a raging rant, then paused… Kylo grimaced, then hemmed and hawed a little, "That's not the point."

"Meh," she waved off her nephew's anger, "You know very well that I was just practicing my healing abilities. What do you think? Very good, huh?"

Kylo Ren stared at her as she swished back and forth mirthfully before him. His expression softened as he eyed her feminine form.

Even Wintlock knew the young sith saw more in the princess than just a familial aunt.

Lord Ren threw a dangerous glare at the doctor, hissing, "Don't you have some patients to treat!"

"Naughty," the princess playfully chastised, "He's here because this is his most important patient—In other words, it's his job to be here. We are in his territory, not the other way around."

"You insist on still defending him!"

"He's my baby doctor," she pouted far from repentant. Playing with a long ribboned curl, she regarded him delicately from under her dark eyelashes, voice becoming diminutive, "Would you deny me the only friend I have from the Empire?"

The dark knight slowly took all of her in… She was a beautiful feminine sight to behold for any man, little lone one that led a solitary-hateful life.

Even if her gown was a mourning-antique-white, the brocade material still complimented her perfectly and its ribbons added not-so subtle delicate and feminine touches. Carefully set silver and gold headdress with sparkling jewels and flowers intwined with half of her blonde hair, while the rest of her locks curled down to the backs of her knees, a stray curl tangling with a silver lined ribbon at her tiny waist. And her lips? The most perfect red against her porcelain skin.

Kylo stared at her mouth for a long moment, moistening his own lips then glanced away. "Go make yourself presentable. You look terrible."

Wintlock nearly choked on his scone in response to that lie.

Subconscious, the princess fussed with her dress attempting to smooth any possible creases and fluff her sleeves. "You're completely right. This daytime dress just won't do."

Lifting her arms to the sides, she turned herself back and forth, scanning down at her own appearance. "Dr. Wintlock already chastised me on wearing mourning colors. Do you suppose," she picked up a handful of her gown's voluminous skirts and swung the fabric, "the Supreme Leader might prefer red? Or perhaps blue? I could wear a white band to signify mourning for my father, I don't necessarily have to wear white, especially before someone as esteemed as the leader of the First Order."

Her eyes lifted to her nephew's, "Pray, what is Snoke's favorite color?"

Kylo made a face, "I don't know?" He guessed impatiently, "Black?"

She frowned, dropping her fistful of fabric. "I couldn't possibly wear black, that would wash me out and I'd look positively hideous."

Twisting her mouth into an incorrigible pucker, she contemplated for a moment before asking, "What color is his throne room? The symbols of the First Order are in red and black. If he prefers those colors, he might decorate his throne room in one or the other."

"Red," Kylo answered after a withdrawn moment, getting slightly frustrated at the turn in the conversation.

"Ah, there we have it!" She clapped her hands, delighted, "His favorite color must be red! Then I will wear a deep scarlet. With darker red colored jewels and perhaps a demure golden and white underlay. And ribbons of course, definitely ribbons. But with my hair all down. And what to wear for shoes?"

She tapped her fingers against her lips, girlishly considering her options, mumbling to herself as she paced, "Something humble and soft, but with just enough glamour…"

The dark lord took a step away from her, looking like a man ready to crawl the walls to get away.

Wintlock didn't blame him, he too was racking his own brain for ways to escape hearing about shoes.

Apple turned a beaming grin on them, "I know exactly what I will wear. It might be a tad old fashioned, but I'm assuming that the Leader isn't a young man. So an imperial age dress should render some nostalgia for him." Her grin widened almost deviously, "One must dress for success."

"Then go do it!" Kylo barked impatiently, obviously wanting to extract himself from any further discussion of fashion, "And stop wasting my time with your incessant chatter about shoes and ribbons!"

She laughed happily then patted his arm, not the least phased by his outburst. "Yes, you are much too masculine to bother with my insipid womanly things. But you must admit that my appearance does reflect upon you."

That silenced Lord Ren quickly enough on the matter.

Turning her attention to the pod, she wiggled her fingers at him. "Don't worry, I will surely not disappoint you nor the Supreme Leader. I'm planning on freshening up enough to impress your master, but first, I have to do some last touches on my patient."

She stretched herself over the pod's edge, playfully conceited, "You must admit though, I've got some serious Force healing skills." Long locks of her hair tumbled off her shoulders down into the pod onto the general's bare chest as she chatted on, "We Skywalkers are pretty powerful, even if I do say so myself."

Yes, the dark lord was rendered entirely speechless. What could any man reply to such a girlish conversation?

"Oww," she complained, trying to pull out of the healing pod, but unfortunately the sedated general had somehow snatched a fistful of her hair like an infant in a bassinet. "I'm afraid he's got me."

Kylo Ren snatched an electrodagger from his belt ready to angrily plunge it into Hux's heart. "Insolent scum!"

"Wait!" She stopped him then softly sung into the pod.

Wintlock closed his eyes, hearing the song for a second time, the foreign words were beginning to make sense, even though the translation removed all sense of rhythmic or verse rhyming.

" _…Take the stream in your dreams. Sleep… and remember. Home is but a leap…_ " she held the strange syllable for a long breath and the general released his grip on her hair, relaxing into a gentle slumber that even the sedatives couldn't have possibly produced, " _away. Guiding the soul back forev-"_ she sang the gentle note a lovely moment more before ending _, "-er._ "

"Did Hux just glow?" Kylo snapped. "I swear, he glowed! People don't just glow."

"Did he?" She gave her nephew a doe-eyed look. "I didn't see anything."

"Of course, you—" he stressed, "—didn't! You're blind!"

Her bottom lip trembled and a big whopping tear trickled down her cheek. "I know that, you didn't have to remind me so cruelly."

"Cruelly?" His frustration was mounting. The dark knight had been on edge obviously long before walking into the infirmary, but now, he was just looking to be set off at any moment.

Throwing up his hands, he paced like a caged animal. "Now I am cruel?!"

"Well…" she shrugged up her shoulders to her ears, and tipped her head to the side, "you are a sith."

How could anyone argue with that?

Lord Ren stopped in his tracks, looking ready to destroy things in his rage—hand clutching his saber.

The good doctor froze. And he imagined the stormtroopers outside the door, and the medical techs down the hall, even they froze at that moment, preparing to scramble.

Instead of unleashing a torrent of anger upon the room, the dark lord sighed and let go of his saber to correct the princess ruefully, "A knight of Ren."

"Yes, and a very powerful one at that," she complimented him happily.

Kylo simmered down even further. Although he had apparently abandoned the idea of rampaging, the dark knight still was willing to vent his frustrations, "You're now singing that… that son of a murlak to sleep?!"

"Kylo," she gently reprimanded, "language. Locker room talk is fine for among men, but just not in my presence please. I," she flicked her hair back over her shoulder proudly, "am an imperial princess."

Oddly contrite, the knight apologized under his breath.

"My word?!" Wintlock muttered aghast. He'd never seen the boy apologize for anything… and the very thought of it, just might have given him a heart attack.

"Mind your own!" Kylo hissed at the doctor.

"Oh, my dearest Kylo. Why are you so perturbed? It's just an old Kathol Rim lullaby that I sang to him," she dismissed his frustration breezily, "it supposed to soothe the soul."

He put the smaller blade away in a huff, "It didn't 'soothe' my soul." He shifted his face away from her, grumbling, "It irritated me."

"You're not ill," she placated her nephew, "You're not weak. Just a week hence, you were severely injured in battle and look at you now, quite recovered. He is tortured and sickly. And you are upset that I sang him a teensy lullaby?" She gasped positively horrified. "Well!" she flashed him an indignant glance before softening.

A pleasing smile ruled up her mouth as she fixed the latch on Kylo's cape, "Come now, herein lies nothing worthy enough to invoke your strong," she accentuated the word, "powers. Everything here is beneath you. You are your grandfather's heir, afterall."

Apple walked away from him in such a manner that the dark knight willingly followed, "I'd imagine that you should spend your efforts on more… worthy threats. Ones at least somewhat equal to your power." She glanced over her shoulder back at him, "One does not waste their most powerful player on anything less than a fight truly worthy of his skill and prowess."

Lord Ren's hateful expression melted. And that was that.

Wintlock plunked back in his seat and hid a smile behind his teacup. By the emperor's black heart, the princess was good at handling ferocious wild animals. Fortunately, he hid that thought deep enough in his mind that it didn't attract the dark lord's attention.

Instead, the young sith's mind was more pleasantly engaged in watching the princess wave happily at the metal wall.

"Yoohoo, troopers," she called.

"You know the stormtroopers can't see you through the wall," Lord Ren snickered, amused at her exaggerated waving and hopping.

"So," she stuck out her tongue at him.

And as if on cue, the door hissed open and four stormtroopers tromped in. Lord Ren's eyebrows shot to the ceiling, blatantly impressed.

"Boys," Apple said triumphantly, "Thank you for coming. I need an escort to my quarters—Which of you will do me the honor?"

The soldiers practically trampled over each other to assist.

"Me, your highness!"

"No, me!"

A large blood vessel pulsed irritatedly on Lord Ren's temple.

"Allow me to be of service to you, your highness!" The tallest trooper blathered, bowing stupidly before her.

"No, I know this—" The last soldier began, but never finished—seeing as the lot of them were telekinetically thrown into the walls by an angry swiping motion of Kylo Ren's hand.

"Enough!" He roared, more than eager to vent his frustrations by flinging the four men about the room.

"Kylo!" Apple wined, stomping her foot. "What have I told you about killing people in front of me?" She pouted, "It's gross."

Dr. Wintlock sipped his tea. The spices and caramel flavors were quite decadent.

The dark lord lowered his hand. The men collapsed to the floor unconscious. "They're still breathing…" He stepped over a gasping soldier. "Barely."

"Okay," she relented a little then still puffed out her cheeks at him in childlike and impotent frustration, "But you still deprived me of my escort."

Expression softening, Kylo held out his hand to her. "Come."

Happy, she bounced over to him, taking his hand in one hand and grasping his arm with her other. "I would have thought you too busy today to take me with all your hard work and military assignments."

"You assume too much," he replied with an amused smile.

Wintlock shuddered at the boy's suddenly and absurdly gentle smile. Creepy.

Snuggling her head against Kylo's shoulder, Apple cooed petulantly, "Next time go easy on the poor weak-minded fools—They can't help it if I am superbly persuasive in the Force."

The dark lord threw back his head and laughed, "So that is what it was?"

"What else could it have been?" She regarded him simply.

His expression became unreadable. "Nothing worth mentioning."

With that, they left.

Dr. Wintlock took a few sips before hitting his commlink, "Med staff, we have a…"

His eyes surveyed the writhing soldiers groaning on the ground before him, "…Lord Ren mess to clean up in ICU 4."

A couple curses erupted over the line before a weary voice replied, "Yes, doctor."

Not bothering to get up as medics gathered the injured soldiers onto gurnies, Dr. Wintlock continued to eat his scone. What a mess.

Amidst the clean up, the doors opened as three breath-taking women covered in refuse sashayed in. Even with the foul smell wafting off of them, the medics couldn't help but be riveted by their voluptuous bosoms.

Dr. Yeals stormed after them. "You can't come in here, covered in that…" he wrinkled his nose in disgust, "filth."

"Says who?" Blaze asked, hardly moved by his blustering.

"Says me," he yanked his thumb towards himself, "the doctor."

She looked him up and down then snickered, "Right. You don't look much like a doctor to me."

"Because he's not a woman?" Wintlock lifted his eyebrows as he poured himself another cup.

"Exactly," Lady Roan answered for her sister. Muck clinging to her skin-tight outfit or not, the woman was a perfect specimen of female anatomy and bearing.

Dr. Yeals stopped mid-step to gawk at him… or rather at the effeminate tea set up. "What happened in here?"

"Tea and cake, Dr. Yeals," Wintlock answered, lifting his teacup with a half-smirk.

The younger man gasped all the way up to his bushy brows.

Roan shouldered past him, sauntering over to the healing pod. "So that's where he's been." She peered inside it, "And I thought he was ugly before? Someone got his upcomings."

River drew her finger along the chest of a sputtering medic. "We're here for our physicals. Captain Phasma sent us."

Wintlock took a long sip. "Of course, she did." He placed his demitasse down on its saucer, "Dr. Yeals, see to it that these women receive proper physicals."

Two square-faced medics' heads shot up, followed by a few others. A little too eager to assist.

"I want the works," Blaze growled at the younger doctor. She poked her finger at his chest, despite the bathroom sludge dripping off her glove, "And I mean the works. It's been over a year since I had my last physical and I want it worth my while."

Catching her full meaning, Dr. Yeals regarded her with professional contempt, all but pinching his nose at the forever-foul stench wafting off her, "Then perhaps you should have thought of taking a bath prior to scheduling an appointment."

Whipping out a pair of scissors from stars-only-knows where—her jumpsuit was tighter than a blood pressure cuff on a fat Gamorrean's arm—Blaze threatened him, "Don't make me cut you."

Yeals quickly produced a scalpel of his with a twisted smile. "That would be a delightful challenge, seeing as I cut people for a living."

Blaze shifted her eyes to his scalpel then blushed, "You like cutting things too?"

"I make it a daily habit," he replied, somewhat baffled by her sudden change of expression.

Shifting her weight onto one foot, she grasped her elbow, coyly closing the scissors to draw them along her lips. "Could you show me?"

Yeals put away his scalpel with a consternating scowl, "I do have an autopsy, or rather dissection if you will, to perform on a captured Scullion the troops shot dead a few weeks ago. The laser hole in its chest ruptured his pericardium and turned half its heart into mush."

From the sound of it, the young man was attempting to gross her out.

"Really?!' Her eyes gleamed as she clasped her hands eagerly, "Can I watch?"

The young doctor was taken back for a moment then considered it. Or rather, he and the rest of the young men zeroed in on her chest as she jumped up and down, begging, "Please can I watch."

"The specimen is half-decayed, but the embalming has stabilized the organs for the time being," Yeals explained, "I imagine since you smell nearly as foul and don't seem bothered by it, that you could attend without nausea."

"Can I help?" She asked, wide eyed, clutching her muck-covered gloves beneath her chin.

"Do you have experience in dissections?" He asked, half-unsure.

"I make it a point to slice things now and then," she grinned to eerily happy to ignore. It was almost as if he was asking her to share a million credits with him on some paradisiacal beach, the way she was elated about the affair.

"Very well then," he straightened his uniform, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some assistance in the matter."

She squealed in delight. "Thank you!"

He grinned, "If you like dissections, you should have seen the debridement I performed yesterday. Cut into that massive abscess and the pus just poured out of it like custard."

Wintlock just took another bite, relishing the citrus flavored custard on his scone. He took another bite of the pastry, and held it up, "Good scone."

Both Roan and River made faces.

Blaze, on the other hand, beamed enthusiastically, "Was the pus green or brown?"

"Both. It smelt like Bith feet when it poured out."

"Sweet!" She reveled, "Do you have another one to slice open?"

Dr. Yeals rubbed his chin considering, "The officer is scheduled to have a second abscess incised later this afternoon. It is bigger than the first one. Possibly could drain a good liter or two out of it."

"Can I watch?!" She exclaimed, while her sisters grabbed their midsections turning shades of sickly green.

"I don't see why not," he glanced at Wintlock, "Sir?"

The older man just shrugged, slathering more custard on another scone. "Do as you please." He pointed the custard-covered knife at them, "But she signs a privacy form."

"Done!" Blaze agreed ecstatic.

Yeals observed her bathroom-floor-muck-adorned suit. "You will have to change to something more… sterile; I cannot have contaminants in the clinic rooms."

UnZip! Off the jumpsuit went, causing many a male eyes to nearly budge out of their sockets.

"I'm ready. Suit me up," Blaze grinned in her perfect black bra and panties.

A freckle-faced medic passed out. Okay, three freckle-faced medics passed out. And one stormtrooper braved further injury to his ribs just to join in on the gawking. Nothing like a shapely woman in her underwear to motivate injured men to further cripple themselves.


	47. Chapter 47

"I'm conflicted." Kylo complained, tromping back and forth through the princess's main living quarters. He kicked a stuffed pula bear out of his way, sending it squeaking into the wall to barely miss a vase of Hapan flowers. "Constantly conflicted!"

"Kylo," Apple gave him the look, "leave my stuffed animals out of it." She brushed her damp hair, fighting with an especially vicious snarl at the end of one of her wet curls, "For Star's sake, you have multiple personalities. Of course you're conflicted—Who wouldn't be?"

"Besides that!" He snapped, pacing back and forth, opening and closing his gloved fists, "I constantly feel the draw to the light," he spun to face her. "Constantly…"

Wet her hair almost floor length from the weight of the drying water, Apple perched daintily on the edge of a plush pink and white ornate chair, grooming herself with a golden ornate brush, wearing a breathtakingly beautiful red gown. It was layers of transparent red silk, light enough for the superficial layers to stir under the ship's careful air conditioning. And just transparent enough to reveal the gold and white underdresses that brought out the highlights in her hair and brightened her aqua colored eyes.

"Especially when I am with you," he whispered, stuck at a standstill. He couldn't help but follow the brushing strokes with his eyes… at least until she attacked another snarl with aggressive vengeance. Delicate image broken.

He shook his head of it and continued his tirade of complaints, "I'm sickeningly drawn to the light—"

"Wait…" she stopped the brushing and held up a hand, brow furrowed as if trying to get things straight, "are you trying to tell me that one of your personalities is like a Coruscantean moth?"

"A what?!" He reeled backwards a step. Her mind… the way it churned would baffle any intelligent man.

"You know…" Apple circled her brush around a few times, "drawn to the light. Work with me here."

She recommenced to getting the tangles out of her blonde tresses, "I'm trying to understand what you're saying, but you're rapidly cycling personalities so much that… Believe me, it's tough to keep up… even with all my telepathic powers. First it's Ben, then it's Kylo, then Ben then Kylo. Pick a personality for Star's sake for more than two parsecs together."

He blinked at her, personalities attempting to sort out her jumbled thought processes.

After a slight pause, Apple brought her fingers to her lips gasping, "Maybe it is the moth man. I've heard its a curse that makes you fluctuate in your weight but I hadn't thought it affects your mind," she whispered warningly with wide eyes, "Fear the moth!"

"Not a moth," he sneered, "the light! The Light side of the the Force!"

She drew her face back with a funny look. "You've mentioned that before, I'm still not sure what you mean by—"

"The Light side, Apple!" He repeated, frustration mounting, "The Light side that plagues me!"

The princess waited patiently for him to continue but he didn't. Eyebrows lifted, she simply went back to brushing, "And that means…?"

"The opposite of the Dark side," he blinked at her. The empire did more than its job keeping her in the dark of the Force… literally.

She dropped her brush to her side and rolled her head to the back, "By the Emperor's black heart, Kylo." She sighed relieved and commenced brushing again, "Don't do that to me. For a second there I actually thought you meant something serious."

"This is serious!" He roared.

"This side, that side," she opened her hands one at a time, or rather one hand and one brush, "What difference does it make which aspect of the Force you use when you're skilled at all of it?"

"It makes a big difference, Apple!" He paced raking his hands through his hair. "A big difference! This is serious. Very serious." He found himself rambling almost maniacally, "Yes, serious."

"Kylo, the only thing that is serious for a Sith is 'how many Jedis are they going to kill in one day?'" She told him, then waved her hand down, "That and which black outfit to wear in the morning'. It's rather hard to be fashionable if you're limited to just one color all the time."

He just stared at her.

She took on one of her usual tangents, making a face, "Which by the way sweetie, you really shouldn't wear that big belt; it makes you look a liiitttttllle," she stressed in a high-pitched voice holding her thumb and forefinger up for emphasis, "chunky."

"What?" He glanced down at his belt.

"I know you're not fat, Kylo—Stars you are more fit than most men—but that belt? Enhhh," she shook her head rapidly and leaned far away like she smelt something icky, "not working for you. You should really try a double crossed belt like Darth Revan would wear. Now that's a belt," she grinned twitching her eyebrows.

"Forget my belt, Apple!"

With a knowing expression, she put aside her golden brush and folded her hands in her lap. Patient and calm as always. "Alright, forgetting the belt. Please continue."

Kylo paced from one side of the large living room to the other. "When Snoke asked…" he cut himself off and paced more, "When he asked…" He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

He pivoted to face her, his cape almost snagging on a wooden ornate cabinet's rectangular handle with the sharp motion. "I just keep feeling lured away from the dark side—I am not strong enough to stay the course…"

He eyed her face, "especially if it means—" He bit back his words, swallowing them, half-despising them and half-fearful of what she would do if she heard them.

With unblinking eyes, Apple waited a long moment for him to elaborate, but instead, he just turned on his heel and went back to pacing.

"If it means killing me?" She surmised.

"What?" He stiffened, pivoting towards her.

"He ordered you to kill me, didn't he?" She yawned. "Nothing to worry about, Sith masters always threaten that when they want to control their apprentices."

Angry at her complacency, he telekinetically threw a pillar stand and a large flower vase, and a decorative tea set, and a few more items, raging. Things crashed into walls and shattered.

And she waited. Stomach growling, she reached for a embellished glass container on the vanity table next to her. Her eyes brightened when she lifted the lid filling the air with the scent of sugary candy. With a grin, she plucked one from the round chiseled container to pop it in her mouth, offering him the container.

"Want one?"

"No." He stopped in his rampage to continue pacing a volatile walkway into the plush floor.

"They're a fattening caloric sweet and scrumptious treat," she wiggled the container at him.

"No."

"You know you want one."

"No!" He spun towards her, "We're talking your life, Apple. Taking it by my own hand."

"Fine. You don't know what you're missing," she shrugged and continued eating candies, speaking between chews. "I told you before, better by your hand than anyone else's."

With a howl, he ignited his lightsaber and slashed the couch in front of him. Sparks flew as molten lines dragged through the fabric, igniting it for seconds before the fabric's fire retardant chemicals kicked in.

"Aww man," Apple complained, "I liked that couch." And with a nonchalant shrug, she prattled on, "Ooo! There are purple ones." She went back to surveying her candy.

The princess plucked a purple, sugar-coated candy to squish it in her fingers, "Yum." She threw it into her mouth. "I really like the purple ones."

The Dark knight tore apart the couch, slicing a straight line threw it then telekinetically tossed the remains into the walls with the force, knocking a few stupidly floral pictures down in the attempt.

Jostling the candy container in her palm, Apple peered into it then tipped it on its side, fishing for more purple confections. She snatched another purple chewy with a triumphant smile.

The remains of the couch melted under his barrage of strikes. Distorted fabric and wood curled smoking and red hot until its heat retardant molecules activated.

He finally stopped, breathing haggard. Blast, he realized that he just destroyed his aunt's couch.

Apple finished off the purple candies, disappointedly fishing through the remainder to eyeball its lavender lacking contents. "I see that you are angry about all this."

"Yes, I am angry about it! Wouldn't you be angry, if you were commanded to kill every last member of your family?!" Breathing ragged, Kylo placed a hand against the wall. Perspiration dripping off his brow to sizzle on the burnt couch parts steaming below him, he leaned over his mess.

"Why can't I just stay true to the dark side?"

She shuffled the container further, determinedly. "Maybe because the darkside isn't enough for you. Maybe you are meant for more. And maybe you just like having a family."

Horror turned to cold seething anger. He pushed away from the wall. "I am not that weak!"

He palmed his lightsaber waving it in an arch, fingers twitching, half-jittery half-turning icy. "The dark side is more than enough! Perhaps you are not as loyal to the dark side as I had been led to believe!" He shouted, angry, "Perhaps you lied to me! Perhaps you are like all the rest! Perhaps Snoke was right about you!"

With a sigh, she lifted her hand. The lightsaber shot out of his grip and into her palm. "Sit," she turned the saber off. With a funny expression, she touched her belly, scrunching her nose.

His breathing rate increased as he paced like a caged wild animal. "I have been betrayed again! Just like mother, you going to abandon me as well. Drop me off at Luke's hoping that he will fix me."

"Gall, Stars no," Apple made a congested face, rubbing her midsection, "That would ruin you."

"What then?" He stepped towards her, rage increasing, "What?!"

"Sit," the word was hardly more than a deeper-sounding guttural whisper, but the room shook with the power of her force. The metal walls creaked and whined under the pressure of the force exuding off her. Vases and trinkets warbled.

Her hair lifted around her face and her eyes flashed blue lightning. "Sit down."

He sat.

The force lowered, as did her hair and the sparkling lightning in her eyes. "I know you are upset. Anyone would be. He pulled a dirty Sith trick on you. But you're not going to kill me anytime soon, not because you are weak, but because I know that it is hardly my time to die."

She frowned indignantly at him, "And shame on you—I never once lied. I can't believe you would actually think that I could do something so low as to lie." She harrumphed a second before calming back to her usual patient self, "The Force is not just some black and white thing that you pick a side and just stay there. Its more than that…"

She rubbed her belly again, face consternating, "and for some people whom are naturally gifted in the Force, like you, one side someday becomes just not enough. Father was like that—You're like that. Just deal with it. You're special, whoopty-doo, so is the rest of our family."

She held her tummy with her hand for a moment with puffed cheeks, then relaxed, prattling on, "Just accept the fact that the Dark side is too limited for you. Get over it. For others it's a way of life, but if you are constantly trying to stretch outside of the Dark side, forcing yourself to remain within its limited scope is only limiting your power."

"That's betraying the Dark side."

"No," she grabbed her temples almost frustrated with him, ignoring the large lightsaber still in her hand, "You can't betray a side of the Force. There are no ways to betray a side of the Force. In fact, truthfully, there are no real sides to the Force. The Force is just the Force. A multidimensional cosmic energy that just is."

Kylo blinked a few times, mind rapidly trying to process her words. Part of what she said was something Snoke would have said, the other part, would have come from Luke.

The princess continued, "It's only people that 'claim'," air-quotes, "there is a side and then act in that limited scope of the Force. And when you don't act exactly like them… by actually superseding their limited abilities then," she stressed the word for effect, "they panic and suddenly cry betrayal."

She threw up her hands and mimicked an exceptionally irritating and whiny voice, "By the Emperor's black heart, you betrayed our side."

She dropped her hands and the whimpering voice to speak seriously, "Come on, they only claim foul, because they themselves can never achieve the fulness of the Force. It's their jealousy. Not a so-called side," she marked the word with air quotation gestures again.

"It's the fact that you can reach into depths of the Force which they couldn't possibly achieve in their lifetimes, the grinds their gizzards. So they get all fussy, belly-aching that you're betraying them… all because of their own inadequacy. Do you understand?"

He just scratched his elbow, unsure how to answer that.

"Those that are true geniuses in the Force are constantly told to," air quotation marks a third time, "pick a side. And then when we supersede that side," quotation marks again, "others get all jealous. And if we outshine them, they cry treason and brand us with betrayal."

The princess flicked candy sugar off her dress and continued almost as if she were standing in a political hover car, voicing a planetary complaint. "You are a Force genius like your grandfather, like me, and like everyone else in our family… so you're going to constantly get bombarded with the," finger quotation marks a last time, "pick a side' and the 'you're conflicted' scams. That's just Force inept trying to limit your superior Force capabilities. Forget about what the others say. Expand your horizons. Soar like you were meant to—Embrace it all if you want. Who cares."

Kylo pulled his upper torso back, gripping his knees with blanched fingered palms. "But you're speaking as though you want me to become a Gray Jedi."

She gasped horrified, "Don't make me wash your mouth out with soap. Jedi is a four-letter word."

He rubbed his temples for a long moment then leaned forward in the rather tiny wing-back chair which he haphazardly and unknowingly sat in. "Then what would you have me do?"

"Be like your grandfather," she raised a proud fist, "Go for the Coruscantean gold. Embrace it all and maybe…" she beamed with pride, "take over the universe and buy an island out on one of those awesome paradise planets for your aunt to retire on."

He fell silent for a moment. Then shook his head blinking open his eyes a few times.

She beamed at him encouragingly, clasping her hands and swiveling happily in her seat, "Oh you do remind me so much of father. How proud he must be of you!"

His expression flattened. "I am not that powerful."

"Kylo!" She burst exasperated, "the only reason that you feel that way is because your master used the Dampen Force technique on you."

He shifted uncomfortably in his rather small seat. Then tipped his head to look at her with one confused eye. "Excuse me?"

"You know that cold, wet blanket type feeling you feel every time you meet with him?" She tried again when he flashed her a blank stare, "That sense of sudden confusion coupled with fatigue. Yeah, that's not just for kicks and giggles…"

Recognition crossed his features. He leaned back nearly tipping the pathetically tiny chair backwards in the process.

"That's Dampen Force. All sith masters do that to their apprentices," she explained then nodded, "It's part of the hazing tradition."

She picked up her brush again, along with a long thick handful of her curls and went back to stroking her hair, "Most people that it's used on can't control objects bigger than rugger rodents, but you're a first-rate Force user. He'd have to Force Drain you to keep you from telekinetically smashing things. By the way," she gave him the stink eye, "I really really liked that couch. You owe me a new one."

He folded his arms across his chest, "I'm not buying you another couch," then smirked, "Consider it collateral damages."

"I… want…" she enunciated darkly, "a pretty… new couch," she stressed, then added gleefully, "A pink fluffy one this time."

"Isn't your room pink enough?" He waved his arm out at the nauseating amount of pink decorative items covering her quarters: pink plush pillows, pink throws, pink flowers, a pink Stormtrooper armor exactly her size.

She groaned, throwing her head to the side, "Fine. I'll ask General Hux to order me a new one when he feels better."

"I'll acquire one," Kylo burst quickly despite himself, "Asking that fool is worthless."

Apple beamed satisfied. "See. You truly are a good nephew."

"Don't call me that," he grumbled darkly, folding his arms across his chest and looking away.

"Anyway," she waved a dismissive hand, and returned to their previous discussion, "Dampen Force is quite the rotten mess to be caught in. While your master keeps a Dampner on you, you're in here running around thinking your conflicted, when you're just naturally seeking more power which was rightfully yours in the first place…"

"How…?" He sat back in his seat, nearly bobbling the tiny chair.

He glared at the offending baby blue piece of furniture and moved to a much larger plush loveseat.

Settled in a seat that didn't shiver every time his tall form moved, he asked, "How do I remove it?"

"Simple. Like this." She crossed her wrists, touching her thumbs to her middle fingers, but suddenly stopped half-way through the technique.

Obviously changing her mind, she dropped her hands. "Meh on second thought, you probably better not."

"What?" He blustered, "Why not?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, definitely not a good idea."

"No. No. No!" He shot out of his seat towards her, "You can not just start explaining how to finally achieve my freedom and power— and then just stop!"

He towered over her, "Tell me!"

"Nope." She continued brushing her hair, "You're not ready."

"I'm ready!" Kylo bellowed, items around the room jostling with his anger, "You just said yourself that I am powerful like Darth Vader!"

She stopped brushing with a loud sigh and drop of her shoulders, "But are you ready to get your afterburner kicked by your master?"

He stopped. "What?"

Apple groaned crabbily, "Because…once you do it, he'll know you're free. And that will really tick him off." She leaned closer, giving him the weird eye, "And I mean really," she stressed, "really tick him off."

She went back to brushing, her ginormous amount of hair. "Only when an apprentice is ready to defeat his master, does he initiate the Release. Otherwise he remains dampened."

Kylo watched her for a moment longer then wearily returned to his seat.

"Okay," she paused to wave her brush at him, "maybe not exactly the case with father. He never was under the Dampen technique. My grandfather had another hold over him—his breathing apparatus was susceptible to Force lightning. But that is an entirely different matter."

She tackled another snarl, "My imperial grandfather used Dampen Force on other Sith, not bothering to use it on father. And thus, daddy had many Force liberties that other weaker sith did not possess."

She pointed her brush at another room, "Could you fetch me that gold box of hair jewels please?"

"It's in the other room," Kylo protested.

"That's why I'm asking you to do it, I'm too lazy to get up myself."

"Then use your Force," he plunked back on his loveseat, folding his arms. "I'm not your slave."

Apple pulled a spoilt princess gripe fest, "Gall! What good is having a nephew, if you can't use him as a slave?!"

The gripe fest ended in a teasing grin.

And despite himself, Kylo chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm surprised you survived among Sith as long as you did. Most would have killed you by now."

Apple reached out her hand towards the other room, and shrugged, "Sith love me, what can I say?"

"You're too annoying to love."

"Oh how wrong you are. Sith see me as a cute and adorable imperial princess that could make very powerful sith babies… that and my connection as the heir to the imperial throne didn't hurt either."

"That there is the real salient point," he noted with a half-smirk, "You were an heir to the throne."

"The heir," she corrected him as a small silver decorative box flew into the room.

She angled her wrist down and her palm upwards. Several red jewels floated out of the box as it settled next to her. Turning towards the mirror, she closed her eyes. The tiny rubies encircled her head, some wrapping into ribbons that shot out of the vanity's drawers, others connecting to the braids forming in her hair. It was as though a hundred unseen hands were working perfectly in sync to style her hair. Ribbons wrapped as braids entwined. And jewels settled on well-situated strands. While curls dried and sprung into place.

Kylo watched the process in awe. All the Force skill wasted on a hairdo

Apple opened her eyes as the process finished. The end result a simple but elegantly lovely arrangement of blonde hair. Left over jewels and ribbons returned to their places of origin.

"You know, I was thinking," she said.

He blinked at her, surprised that she had enough mentation leftover during the hair ordeal to contemplate anything other than controlling her Force techniques.

"You could always use the Open Soul technique instead," she moved her hand straight up as if closing a zipper, "it limits the amount of Dampen that affects you, while at the same time, not alerting your master. Galen Marek taught me that one." She grinned, "Really baffled father for the longest time."

"Galen who?" He asked then thought better of it as she opened her mouth ready to launch into another tangent.

The dark knight waved a brisk hand at her, half-squinting his eyes in frustration at his almost mistake, "Nevermind. Just tell me how to engage the technique."

"Like this." She repeated the zipper movement.

He rolled his eyes and slapped his thighs in disbelief. "Come on now, Apple. You can't be serious. Just by moving your arms about, you actually think that you can manipulate the Supreme Leader Snoke's powerful technique?"

"No," she explained, somewhat offended by his disbelief, "I can affect the force molecules around myself, by moving appendages of my own electromagnetic currents and thus prevent the intrusion of his technique into my own personal space."

Kylo tilted to the side, left forearm on his thigh. "By just waving your arms? No mental concentration required?"

Apple gripped the sides of her seat and kicked her feet under herself, leaning towards him, "Consider it like this: We are all made up of atoms. Atoms are made up of protons and electrons. Positive and negative ions that are constantly transmitting information and receiving information from the universe around us on a sub particle level."

She carefully fussed with an askew gem above her right brow, "Your body naturally generates an electromagnetic field based on your atomic makeup… and now that my eyes have become blind to anything except things livened by the Force, I can see these particles as wavelengths of light surrounding the person, the same way you can see heat signatures on a screen."

She explained further, "Every inch of your body generates a similar electromagnetic gradient and as you move your extremities… you change the environment in relationship to the Force molecules that surround you. Does this make sense?"

"And this is what you see?" He had to admit, he was impressed.

"Yes…Now," she answered with little emotional response to the question, "I can see that the darker gray wispy lines stretching out of your master from however far away he is… to form a hazy cage around you. And as long as you are unaware of the Dampening field he generates, it's in full affect. Now, concentrate on dissipating vapor molecules… and move your arm like this," she did the zip up move again.

He rolled his eyes and tried Open Soul. As soon as his hand reached the top of his electromagnetic field, a flood of energy filled him as if he had removed a heavy weight off his shoulders.

Astonishment struck him. "It worked! It actually worked." He popped out of his seat to excitedly pace a few steps. "I can feel more power coursing through my veins."

She grinned, "Beautiful, isn't it! His Dampner is still lingering around your edges, but now there's a massive hole in the ugly gray cage letting all the universe in. He'll never suspect. How do you feel?"

"Better…" he admitted with the first real smile in years, sitting back down. "Much better."

"See." She moved to sit beside him, and patted his arm happily, offering him back his saber. "All you needed was a little fresh bit of Force air so to speak."

He ignored the saber, much more interested in information. "So there is more than just the Dark side and the Light side?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by the Light side, but the Force is like a rainbow of colors rather than just black and white. For instance there are Sith techniques, and there are Jedi techniques, but those sects only encompass a tiny portion of what is truly possible." She waved the saber carelessly, fortunately for her it was turned off or she would have severed her head or his.

He leaned away from her haphazard waving skills. "Are you trying to kill us?" He snatched the lightsaber back from her to attach it to his belt.

"Funny," she stuck her tongue out at him then went back to her explanation, "If you constantly feel as if you are struggling to be bound to the Dark side," she said not bothered by his irritated body language…

Or rather, not noticing that an accidental brush of her breast against his arm or the sweet smell of her candy-floral perfume set him on edge, she continued, "then you naturally are inclined to the balance of the Force… or rather the largeness of it. Your mind instinctively craves the expansion and somehow subconsciously recognizes that there is more out there than just one side."

He leaned away from her, licking his dry lips. "So that is why I feel conflicted?"

"I suppose if that's what you want to call it, then yes," she nestled in next to him completely unaware of how soft and warm she felt against his side, "Kylo, if you want to explore all aspects of the Force and you have the natural ability to do so, then why fight it. Just go with it. You're largely free of the Dampen Force, so why the heck not. Be adventurous and go for it!"

Optimistic as always. Her blue eyes glistened encouragingly up at him.

Giving into the temptation, he leaned closer towards her mouth, slipping his arm on the love seat's back over her shoulders, "And who will teach me all this? You?" He whispered closer, "I could use a…" he eyed her lips, leaning closer, "gentle teacher. Even if she could possibly… or even remotely be… related."

"Meh!" She got up to retrieve her brush, leaving him nearly falling to the side on the loveseat, "You don't need a teacher," she snagged the golden cursed brush and went mightily after a final tangle she somehow had come to notice, "the Force is your teacher."

He scoffed. "That's impossible. No one can just learn from the Force."

"Yes, they can. And they do it all the time," she told him as if without a care in the universe, then plunked back down beside him, "Haven't you ever come across someone, whom just immediately is able to do something in the force even though they've never had any formal training prior?"

"No," he began then realization struck him. He sharply turned to her, "That Jakku girl… what was her name? Rey."

"Oooo…" She twitched her eyebrows at him, "Her name is Rey, huh?"

He sent her a nasty glare.

"Fine," she sighed exaggeratedly, "I won't tease you about the girl you have a crush on."

"A crush?!" Livid, his nostrils flared. "I hate that conniving little… space worm! I will kill her with my own hands!"

Apple clasped her hands under her chin, swaying dreamily, "So romantic. Two star-crossed lovers torn by opposing factions."

"I hate you," he grumbled.

"I love you too," she waved off his irritation and nudged him with her shoulder, "But what happened with her and the Force?"

He just stared at her for a long moment debating whether he should attempt to figure out the princess's consulted mind or not, then relinquished the fight, "I told her that I would teach her the Force and…"

"Ooo, you wanted to teach her the Force," she twitched her eyebrows at him and tapped his arm with her brush. "How romantic!"

He scowled. "Are you even listening?"

"Okay, Okay. I am listening," she forced on a serious face, "you said that you offered to teach her the Force," her eyebrows twitched playfully again, but she cleared her throat reigning them in, "and then what happened next?"

"She just repeated, 'the Force?' and then closed her eyes." His realization grew, "After that her skill was unsurpassable."

"Hah, there you have it!" Apple flashed him a triumphant set of blindingly white teeth, "She sought the Force for teaching, but you sought Snoke for it. No matter how powerful or studied Snoke is, the Force always knows more and it trains Force users faster than any master ever could."

"No," Kylo shook his head, "No. It's impossible. I am bound to Snoke. And these internal conflicts—"

"Then rise above them," she told him straightly, "become whom you want to be. Do what you want to do? Don't be a sissy."

He shot her a deadly glare.

Apple ignored the murderous expression, continuing, "Ignore Snoke's boundaries and set your own."

He gasped, horrified and yet tempted by the prospect. "What you suggest is impossible."

"Is it?" She asked with a knowing smile, "Is it really?"

"You don't know Snoke's power as I do," he felt a new, different weight crush upon his shoulders, reminding him of Snoke's threat and what he had done to his own father.

"Is he all about the Dark side?" She turned her upper body to completely face.

Kylo leaned forward, leaning his upper body onto his forearms on his thighs, dejected. "Yes. But you don't know his power."

Apple's smile widened and her eyes gleamed, "Oh, I do know his power," her smile widened even more, "I know it quite well."


	48. Chapter 48

White hot pain caught Hux's breath, shocking him awake. Taking one intake of air, and electrified fire ripped across his chest. The strength of the pain threatened to halt his respirations. But the general was stubborn. Solidly stubborn.

Hux hissed through clenched teeth. Determination was his strong suit—And so, he relied wholly on the trait to regain control of his senses. Despite the pain… something else was a altogether wrong. The sounds of life outside of himself seemed more pronounced. More clear. As if…he could perceive movements of soldiers two floors away. Almost as though, he could feel that one stormtrooper was cleaning his gun, sitting alone in his bunk. Another four were playing cards over a pile of stolen Hapes goods. A few officers were singing drinking songs with Hapes nationals. A dark skinned soldier was kissing a life-sized mannequin of Captain Phasma. A shudder racked his thoughts, sending his mind ricocheting from soldier to soldier, officer to officer.

Dreaming. Hux reasoned with himself. Reigning his mind in. He was just dreaming—the irrational illusions of a sedated brain. He forced the sensations aside, gathering himself in the need to fully gain control of his limbs.

Fluttering his eyelids against the burn of aches and the tranquilizing draw of sedatives, the Hux willed his eyes to open. The bright intensive care unit was a haze. Hums of monitors filled his ears. Reality.

Even despite his mental resolve, it still took a few pulses for him to gain his bearings. Analgesics dimmed the edges of his agony, but he could still feel an intense, burning discomfort cramp his neck and his right arm. Heavy as lead, he was unable to move the limb. Not even the fingers, without considerable effort. And the pain stinging along his muscles made him think better of pursuing the matter.

Mentation woozy, Hux instead used his good hand to feel for the extremity. Sharp pains tore across his chest with the movement, and he fingers found nothing but cold steel pins and wires drafted into his right arm.

Hux cursed under his breadth. More a harsh whisper.

The young general achingly turned his head to focus his good eye on his right arm. Metal fixators secured his arm into an unlovable position. Another curse vented through his cracked lips.

And his left leg? He felt for it, meeting cold steel bracers with his fingertips. The same.

Blurry at first, a feminine form appeared over the edge of his healing pod.

Hope alleviated a portion of the dread. "Your highness?" He managed to whisper. She had stayed with him.

But the womanly figure clarified a little more, and instead of blonde hair there was dark.

Lady Roan leaned over the edge of the healing pod, wearing little else but a patient's gown. "She's not here."

Focus fuzzing at the edges, he lifted his good hand to squint disorientated at his palm. "I could… have sworn… she…"

The princess's hair. He had felt her hair in his fingers. He closed his eyes, breathing against the pain. He had heard her singing. Had he? Or was it another dream?

Blinking the dryness from his functioning eye, he swung his gaze to Roan, fixating on her face until his vision focused. That's when all of her came to view. Throat dry and vision clearing, he nearly choked.

"Good hell, why are you…" he coughed, eyes unable to tear them away from the copious amount of cleavage escaping her patient robe.

"Oh," she looked down at herself then nonchalantly pulled her robe more closed as if finally remembering to do so and guessed his question in heavily accented Basic, "Wearing a loathsome patient smock?"

"Affirmative," he managed, tasting bile in his throat.. obviously not from what he saw—that instead was beautiful, but rather… something dreadful must have transpired in his mouth when he was unconscious.

Roan trussed the silver wrap-around robe more firmly at the waist. But the article was designed for a man, not a shapely woman, and the synthetic material protested. Her concern about the whole affair was minimal.

"Long story…" She sighed pushing away from the pod enough to heave a few breaths, nearly clearing his eyesight for weeks.

"Blaze got all razor-squirreled over a pus pocket, dropped her drawers and had the techs shouting, 'Take it off'… Then," Roan released a vastly bored sigh, "Dr. Yeals began squawking about us dropping grime in his sterile infirmary, and the old man became incensed," she droned on, checking her fingernails.

"—and most annoyingly informed us that it was First Order protocol for all patients to don sterile robes while in the infirmary," she sighed as if not quite finished. Yet she said no more on the subject.

"And you…" he coughed to his painful regret, "complied… without (cough cough cough) complaint?" He squeezed the last word out in a sludgy wheeze.

Roan stared at him for a long moment then threw her head back and laughed a rather brusque, throaty laugh… one that was sultry and appealing, yet far from demure.

"Without complaint?" She focused her violet eyes on him—her large beautiful violet eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes, "We were covered in…" her expression hardened with livid ire, "excrement! From your ship's lavatories. Your men, general," she sneered, "are slobs. Filthy…grimy… feculent… dregs of male inferiority."

A thin smile slit his lips. "You… could have been… executed… instead."

The violet eyes stared at him for a protracted amount of time. Her ire subsided into an autogenetic, business-like manner.

"You look positively hideous," Roan finally commented, then added grousing, "and I hadn't believed you could manage to appear anymore revolting. Yet here you are… as appalling as a Touresk's backside."

General Hux laughed, but the sound morphed into a coughing fit agonizing his already painful chest.

An amused smirk contorted her mouth.

"What happened?" His voice sounded breathy and garbled even to his own ears. He reached his left fingers to palpate his swollen eye, racking his brain to remember.

With a twisted smug curl of her upper lip reminiscent of Phasma, Roan pointed out, "The sith," she leaned on her forearms languidly over the edge of the pod, "Apparently, Lord Ren didn't appreciate your face either…"

He groaned. That son of a murlak. Now he was beginning to remember.

"We have a saying in the Consortium," she flicked her long black ponytail over her shoulder, "'What is by one outward dealt, will return to a hundred-fold.'"

He rolled his eyes. Was that her attempt at saying, 'what goes around comes around'…?

"Appears that someone received his just comings." She smirked haughtily, "Your suffering has more than satisfied my countrymen for their unjust torture. No more animosity between you."

"Their interrogation…" he measured his contempt against his pain, "…was a result… of your indiscretion."

A flicker of regret made her glance away from him. "I was only following orders," she said then a firm line returned to her mouth, "We can't afford to align ourselves with weakness or fraud."

He coughed, feeling the pain decrease and his strength increase with each passing moment. "Nor can we."

Roan straightened her arms, pushing her upper body away from the pod. After a few beats, she replied simply, "The Shakal has proven that our Prince procured the correct path in aligning with your forces. Your resources have substantial potential," then added insolently, "even if you are led by men."

Hux rolled his eyes, cursing all Hapes women under his breadth in a language that he was most certain she wouldn't understand… _Cheunh_ —the one patriarchal language that was prolific in slurs against all feminists.

Lady Roan knit her brow, but didn't reply. A small black BB-9 series droid whirled into the room to scurry off towards a corner.

Hux glanced at the droid distracted by its movement then gazed back at Roan.

Instead the gorgeous woman just stared… and stared… and stared at him. Large violet eyes staring unblinking at him. Every once in a while her attention drifted to his vitals monitors, but would flit back to him.

Pain trampling his anxiety-around-beautiful-women under a healthy layer of agitation, he glared. "Do you… require… something?"

"Are all non-Hapes men physically like you?" She questioned simply.

He wasn't going to dignify that with a response.

Sympathy softened her expression. "To look at you," she contorted her features with a mixture of distaste and concern, "is depressing."

"Then don't…" he gasped at the pain in his chest, "look."

Torn between his body wanting to rest and his drive to get back in control of his ship, he strained to sit up. The agony!

Hux pierced his lips against the stabbing and burning racking his body until they blanched. His nostrils flared with his haggard breathing.

"Not a wise idea, armpit hair." She went to push him back down.

Eyes flashing green, the young general hissed. "Leave me!"

The fury behind his request caused her to waver. She rescinded, shock morphing into an offended raise of her eyebrows. "It is your death, fool."

She rationalized, "Weren't your eyes blue?"

"They are blue," he glared at her in his struggles.

"No, they're green," she observed, leaning closer to his face, "Almost as though they are glowing. Are you sure you're a human male?"

The general shifted his eyes to her, slitting them hatefully. "Get out!"

"No," she ignored his command and rested her chin on the pod's acrylic, "I'm fine here for now." She smirked, "I want to watch you kill yourself by being stupid."

She sounded like his father.

Anger fueling his determination, Hux willed himself to sit up. His ribs cracked in protest, aggravating a shooting pain down his side. Stifling a pained howl, he instead hissed through gritted teeth. Sheer will strengthened him.

To Roan's surprise, the general pushed past the pain and vertigo, and sat up. Paling in the process, he still triumphed.

The monitors beeped furiously in response then surprisingly settled down, stabilizing swiftly. Hux exhaled forcing his agony into a corner.

Impressed, Roan smiled. "Well now…"

"Where is Dr. Wintlock-" He began.

"Taking care of the mess Lord Ren left here," she said without the faintest bit of concern. "That sorcerer's martial prowess is worthy of esteem, even for a man."

He groaned again, mind still half under anesthesia—enough to haphazardly ignore his desire to kill the dark knight.

Thrusting the vengeful intent aside, Hux narrowed his good eye at the Hapan woman. "And what are you doing here?"

To his surprise, his breathing had finally normalized enough to permit him to communicate without gasping.

Obviously apathetic and having nothing better to do, Roan yawned, "Waiting my turn for a required physical."

She rolled her eyes, "River threw a feller-fit about wanting to go first until the old man broke down and dragged her off. She's in getting her annual check-up—taking her time about it too."

An awry grin darkened her features, "She's probably making it worth his while."

"Ahh…" he nodded, trying to ignore the pounding in his head then his eyes popped open in realization. Actually his good eye popped open, and his swollen eye remained inconveniently shut. "Pardon me?"

"And I," she continued in her story—hardly noticing his sudden alarm—and stretched her upper arms on the pod, pushing her tush outward lazily, "am here watching how remarkably fast your scars are healing."

He blinked taken back.

"Fascinating," she smiled salaciously, tugging on a dark lock spinning it around her finger to put in her mouth, "You have some exceptional genetics for someone so unsightly."

He just stared at her blankly. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

Dropping her hair, she rolled her eyes. "So bland!"

As if changing tactics, she pointed at his face, "Did your mother think you were this ugly when she bore you? Because any Hapes woman would have shot herself in the head for bearing such a horrid-featured child."

In physical agony, he closed his eyes… beyond annoyed. "I'd reply to that lovely anecdote, but I don't engage in mental combat with the embarrassingly unarmed."

Her eyes popped open with a laugh. Instead of being angry or agitated at his insult, her expression enlivened, almost… as though she was thrilled at the challenge. "Well done, but I must tell you—I found your birth documents, they were an apology statement from several contraception factories."

To his physical torture, Hux jerked his head back from her.

"Was that an attempt at an insult? Keep speaking, my lady," he slurred the title, then examined the pod for a less painful way out of it, "perhaps ultimately you might manage to say something intelligent. That is," he sneered, "after considerable effort."

"Your breath is atrocious," she retorted with a critical glower, "but not nearly as awful as your looks. Or I should say 'your looks before' the young sorcerer improved upon your face?"

The grim line deepened into a scowl. "Charming as always. I'm sure physical beauty among your kind makes up for a multitude of insufficiencies. In your case morals, intelligence and particularly," he smiled curtly, "feminine appeal."

Her smile widened as she leaned closer. "And what would you First Order foreigners know about feminine appeal?" She drew her fingers along the pod's acrylic, "Or intelligence for that matter?"

"And I can not imagine why," Hux didn't even attempt to cover his sarcasm, "you are still single at your age."

"I don't see a ring on your finger," she retorted.

"We don't apply rings to delineate fidelity."

"Nor we," she replied suddenly unsure, then her brow furrowed confused, "But I thought in the Republic—"

"I am not a Republic citizen!" He roared, rage turning his eyes greener, "My family were imperials long before the corrupt New Republic was even established!"

The exceptionally beautiful woman flinched. Hux felt a slight guilt. Destroying planets did not phase him, but causing a woman to recoil and wince…? He wasn't his father. And he never would be that Blaster. Never.

Worse, Roan's features were slightly reminiscent of his mother's. Dark haired and light eyed with high-cheekbones. It was a faint resemblance, but enough to cause him to pause… And enough to cause regret.

And knowing his mother, if he had snapped at the woman in her presence—the disappointment on her face would have been harrowing.

But… Hux narrowed his eyes… No, he would not apologize. Not to someone—even a woman—whom compared him to a member of that debauched and degraded Republic.

Roan flickered her long eyelashes or several seconds, a slight disappointment in her eyes. "Then you are married…to someone in the Senate?"

"I am not!"

A flame erupted in a control panel beside the pod, sparking an electrical fire. They both snapped their attention to it, but the BB-9 series droid rolled into action, sparking the panel with flame retardants. Not the little black droid's normal duties, but effective none the less.

Hux watched it spin its roller sphere to move back and forth until the fire was extinguished. What was that series of a droid doing in the infirmary? He had noticed it before, but…

"Then how did you rise to such a rank without a political marriage in the Senate?" She asked, seeming completely mystified.

"I am not tied to the Senate!" He burst, anger subsiding his pain. Taking a breath, he calmed himself, "The First Order is not tied to the Senate. As an imperial, I achieved my rank and success on my own."

To the BB series droid's dismay another panel sparked into an electrical fire. It whirred over to it, spraying white foam.

Hux flicked his eyes to the black droid and the unusual fires for a moment of distraction then back to her face, "The Republic scum torched my home, murdered my older brother, and destroyed any semblance of order within the galaxy."

"Very well. You are not a Senate lover," she relented. An understatement.

"The Senate betrayed the empire," he explained in a more careful tone—the closest to apologizing that he would allow himself, "Profiteering upon the exploits of criminals. It was a scar upon the face of the universe."

"I thought the whole lot of them were philanthropers."

"Just a front. Their ideals were truthfully the offspring of terrorists and rebels." Hux shot his eyes to the BB-9 droid. It had succeeded in extinguishing the fires. The question was how did the fires start in the first place.

"And the First Order?" She asked as the BB-9 series droid nonchalantly circled by her feet around the base of the healing pod.

"The rebirth of the Empire…its natural successor," he informed her firmly, watching the droid, "We were born to rule the universe."

"Many in the Hapes Consortium would say the same thing."

"And the princess is the heir to both," Hux elucidated, eyeing the droid as it weaved in and out of Roan's bare legs. "The First Order will spearhead the future under the guidance of the Supreme Leader, with the princess uniting lost factions to his cause."

"Royalty is her heritage," she said simplistically, ignoring the statement about the Supreme Leader altogether.

"And control is his."

Roan gripped the edge of the healing pod then relaxed her fingers. "Wasn't the Lord Ren's mother—the honorable Princess Leia—a supporter of the New Republic?"

Hux measured his next words. "Deceptions can blind even the most politically savvy. Except Organa-Solo was a rebel from the beginning. Not honorable in the least—trafficking in sabotage and blackmarket dealings which resulted in the deaths of many innocents."

"And this is coming from the man solely responsible for the destruction of three planets."

"Five," he corrected her, shifting his attention from the droid to her face, "The Republic was a fraudulent exploitation of universal sentiment forced upon galactic society by terrorists. I did what was necessary under the direction of the Supreme Leader."

He flicked his good hand towards the pile on the counter, "Would you mind retrieving my things for me? It seems," he attempted to lift his braced leg for emphasis, "I am temporarily too incapacitated to fetch them myself."

"So it was true," the Lady Roan raised her eyebrows, hesitating at his request. "You were the mastermind behind the deaths of billions."

She glanced from the bundle of clothing folded on the counter back him then shrugged and nonchalantly went to retrieve it. "I heard you alone were responsible for the Starkiller—And not the Supreme Leader. That you designed and implemented the massive project, firing it only at his order. All else was your doing." She handed the bundle to him.

"Correct." He answered then lifted the bundle with a strained smile, "Thank you."

"Regrets?"

"Eradication of enemies is an absolute necessity in war." He discreetly opened the bundle of clothing and reached inside his uniform's jacket.

"Cold." She laughed appreciatively. "I like that."

Hux returned his attention to the droid.

It tilted its flat topped head to gaze up under the Hapan's woman's robe. A light flashed on its optic port. It murmured cooing.

"Lady Roan," the general said, "if you would.…"

A knowing expression shadowed her features.

He whipped a pistol from his bundle and shot the droid between her legs. With a shrieking squeal, the droid flew back against the wall. It exploded into a series of shuddering electrical sparks and smoke, squealing until its lights blinked out permanently.

Roan stared at its smoldering remains, hardly phased. "Didn't appreciate the way it looked?"

"No," the young general examined his pistol, satisfied it was up to standard, "I didn't appreciate the way it was recording our interaction."

"It put out two fires," she defended it half-heartedly.

"It was recording your underwear."

"What underwear?"

Scarlet flushed his face to his auburn hairline. "Excuse me?"

She smiled at him, "And that…" she emphasized, "is the male mind at its very best."

Voice caught in his throat, he hemmed and hawed for a bit. Extracting his communicator, he raised it to his lips. "Commander Rokens."

"General, you're awake?" Came the other man's surprised reply. "It's good to hear that you are improving—"

"I'm well and fine," he snapped impatiently, "I want a team sent to ICU 5—No better yet, send Lieutenant Aster Ru. There is a particular droid…" he slit his eyes at the BB-9's remains, "I need…fixed."

"I could send the team, the Lieutenant is in compliance training," Rokens said matter-of-factly.

The corner of his mouth twitched. Somehow that didn't surprise him.

"Send him anyway," Hux barked, holding his pinned arm against his chest.

"Of course, sir."

Hux shut the communication line off and tapped the small device against the pod's edge. He stared at the droid's remains, thinking.

"You assume it is related to the infiltration," Roan observed.

"Possibly," he replied then shifted his attention back to her, "but one can not make assumptions without substantial facts. The one thing I do know is that it was up to something."

"The droid didn't appear to do anything untoward," she frowned, "On the contrary, it appeared quite helpful."

"Yes…" he postulated, "The fires. Convenient, weren't they?"

"Is it a droid for housekeeping?"

"Not hardly. BB series are astromech droids, largely applied by pilots for technical support," Hux clarified for her, "Some can be used aboard flagships for communication detail as data couriers. We have a number of the BB-9 class… but they remain largely restricted to the pilot's wings."

"This one step outside of bounds?"

Hux relaxed feeling the soreness in his ribs subsiding slightly. "A BB-9E type droid wandering a ship is not altogether out of character"

"Now you are anthropomorphizing the machines."

"Artificial intelligence is no different than biological," he countered, surprised that she would have exhibited anti-droid sentiment.

She snorted. "I beg to differ. Superiority is determined by birth, not by synthetic creation."

Hux nodded. "In that, we are in accordance. But droids develop minds of their own, regardless of their creators designs."

"And you believe this one had a mind of its own?"

"No…" he replied, examining the smoking remains, "I believe it was reprogrammed."

"Astonish me," she smiled folding her arms.

"BB series droids blink their optical sensor lights in a one-one-two-one sequence. It's standard for that class. But this droid took a one-two-one-one sequence."

She was astonished. "I am impressed. Yet how would that be indicative of culpability?"

"First Order droids of this class have a built in safety, if tampered with—" he began with a grim smile.

She met his smile, finishing for him, "the sequence will be off."

"It was distinctly recording our conversation," he rubbed his chin. "Which leads me to the next salient question."

Hux narrowed his eyes, his swollen one feeling less confined with every passing minute. "What was the real reason why you chose to wait here? Inside my unit?"

A flicker of redness flashed across her face. She shifted her weight then she answered with a bored shrug."Nothing else better to do."

A grisly line appeared on his mouth. "You were sent to discover the means of a Consortium operative within our midst, and yet, now you suddenly have nothing better to do."

"That is the truth," she leveled her gaze to meet his, "I am stuck waiting on an absurd physical, unable to enter the princess's quarters without prior permission, and am biding my time away from your crew's eyes until I can put on something decent. Does that answer your question?"

"You didn't seem too perturbed about the patient's robe earlier?"

"But I'm not going to scurry around outside in it either." She defended herself, glowering. "There is a difference between Hapes men and foreigners. I am not so brazen as my third-sister."

"Now that…" he muttered under his breath, "is another understatement."

She went to respond, but zeroed in on a laceration on his shoulder. Waving her hand at him, she shushed him, animatedly. "Look."

The long gash zippered up with healthy, unscarred skin, pushing off the synthetic transparent sealant bonder as if shedding scales.

Roan looked at her wrist timepiece, a tad impressed, "That's 36 wounds mending in less than 40 minutes. Your healing rate is exceptional."

"Thanks…" he coughed, ignoring her idiosyncratic enthusiasm, then asked shocked, "Excuse me?"

Roan explained nodding at his mending wounds, "You heal exponentially fast." She gave him an appreciative once-over, "You may be ugly, but I am forced to admit that your genetics are not so inferior after all."

He shifted his eyes to the side, wondering: What exponential healing? The Hapes must be disconcertingly slow at mending their wounds. What sort of deflection was this, he wondered. But one look at her excited expression of nibbling on her bottom lip at his laceration, he realized that it wasn't a deliberate distraction.

"It is possible that you are not entirely inferior," she toyed with her hair, smiling at him.

"Inferior? I drank you…" he snarked, gaining more control of his voice with every passing moment, "under the table."

She grinned, "I'll admit to that." Glancing over her shoulder, she snuck a small flask of hooch from her robe. "Which reminds me. Contraband?"

His eyes lit up. "Now that is a sight for sore eyes."

He reached for the dark flask… then stopped, fingers inches from it. A sensation erupted within the confines of his mind flashing an atypical warning.

"The princess…?" He murmured, grimacing against a new wave of white hot bolts erupting across his chest.

"Not here," Roan rolled her eyes and took a huge swig of the booze to his dismay.

She offered it to him.

Grossed, he waved it off. "Not after you sucked on it."

"You didn't think I hadn't done so before, did you?"

He made a face. "Did you check your manners at the door along with your clothes? One does not simply drink after another person. It's rather disgusting."

"Suit yourself." She rolled her eyes and took another extended gulp.

"But that the droid's target wasn't truthfully you," he segwayed to their previous discussion, "was it?"

Still knocking back the liquor, she held up her index finger for him to give her a moment. Coming up for air, she gasped against the burn. "You are more of a likely candidate."

"But I was assumed to be unconscious," he reasoned, "and the droid wasn't here for an assassination attempt. If that was the case another series of droid would have been more appropriate. No, the BB-9 was sent on survelliance."

"Then whom was it's target?" She asked, lifting the drink to her lips.

The general glanced at his palm again, noticing for the first time a long golden hair attached to the sleeve of his silvery robe. He held the strand up for her to see. "The princess."

She stopped, mid-sip, blanching. "Ancient Mothers forbid."

He lifted his communicator to his mouth, "Lieutenant Commander Ru."

—

Key'ler Ru opened and closed his eyes against a massive headache. Giving the class his back, he chugged down his fourth bottle of electrolyte beverage, chasing it down with a fistful of chewable antacids.

The seedy music warbled in the background. Hapans cheered the squalid compliance movie on. While his twin brother happily sold them snacks.

"Get your tidbits here," Aster waved bags of stale candies and vegetable chips. "Now, gentlemen, if you tip your heads just so," he demonstrated tilting his head a little to the left, "you'll get the best perspective of the… action."

The class tilted their heads then after a voiceless pause they cheered even louder.

Key'ler stuffed another handful of antacids in his mouth.

His brother's communicator erupted into cheesy cartoon song. He popped his earpiece in, answering, "Lieutenant Ru, here."

His grin widened. "I'll be right there, sir."

Dropping the tray of stale food onto a man's desk, nearly crushing the guy's hands. The pirate sprung out of the way as others dove at the bags of chips.

Aster saluted the Hapans with both hands. "Peace out brothers, I'm free!"

He happily bounded for the door.

Ru cut his twin off at the pass. "Where are you going?" He hissed under his breath, "You can't leave!"

"Duty calls," Aster slapped him on his shoulder, "You can handle this one your own. Commander Rokens has an assignment for me."

With one more dorky salute, he left, leaving Ru to gape at the closing door.

"Not fair, is it?" A younger man's voice said at his elbow.

Ru shot his eyes to Resolder, ready to retort. Instead, he dropped his head. "It never is."

"I know what you mean," the young noble glanced back at the pirate captain.

Heg'ir had climbed on his desk, lifting his shirt to dance along with the seedy music. His crew cheered as he shimmied his tush to the degraded beat.

"Oh for the love of the Empire!" Ru threw up his hand at him, "Captain Heg'ir get down! This isn't a Republic rave!"

The pirates booed, throwing crumpled bags of chips at the lieutenant commander as their leader dejectedly hopped down from the desk.

Ru ducked shielding his face as the barrage of plastic balls hit him. Resolder stepped to the side, apparently well versed in the men's antics.

"He does have his good points," the boy tried.

Ru wiped vegetable chip crumbs from his uniform's sleeve. "I'd be all astonishment to note them."

The teenage noble shifted his weight then brightened, "The Shakal will be hailing you soon."

A blush struck his cheeks, "How can you be sure?"

Resolder shrugged, shoving his hands into his uniform's pockets. "I don't know. I can just feel it."

His communicator beeped, vibrating on the desk next to him. Elated, he snagged it, shoving his finger in his ear. "Lieutenant Commander Ru speaking!"

"Nice music," a female Hapes-accented voice commented. Not the princess's voice.

Ru shifted his eyes to the other man, grazed. Covering the communicator, "This is not the princess."

Resolder's brow furrowed, concerned. "I could have sworn, I felt—"

Roan's laugh erupted over the line. "One could only imagine what you do in your spare time, lieutenant commander," she mocked his rank, "I imagine you were so engrossed in your…" she laughed again, "extracurricular activities to notice that you lost my third-sister…."

Ru swung his upper body around to where River had been sitting but the space was long since vacated. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist, beyond agitated. He hadn't even seen her slip out. That little…

Taking his frustrations out on the communicator, he felt tempted to throw it against the wall,"Lady Roan, how'd you obtain access to this channel?" Especially since the designation label was… to his dread… the general's.

"Give me that! Never touch my communicator!" a harsh but alarmingly familiar male voice barked over the line, then increased in volume and clarity as it came closer to the communicator, "Lieutenant Commander Ru."

Horror filled him. "General Hux, sir?" It took all he had to not instinctively snap to attention. Resolder watched him with quizzical eyes.

"It is good to hear that you are feeling better." He cupped his mouth to speak into the communicator, surprised that the general was even awake. "I hope you are recovering well."

A frustrated grunt erupted over the line. "Cut the small talk, Lieutenant," he snapped contemptuously, then added, "I need you to—"

Hux's audio-filtered voice cut off sharply as the sleazy music increased in volume. After a couple dingy beats, the general inquired with disgust, "What are you… doing? And on company time no less?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ru grimaced, clutching his fist in the air then chewed on his knuckle beyond mortified. "Teaching compliance training propaganda," he squeaked.

"Teaching compliance training?" The general's audio-filtered voice repeated aghast, then hastily changed the subject, "Doesn't matter. What is the princess's diplomatic schedule?"

"Today's diplomatic schedule, sir?" Ru thought quickly, "As far as I know, Lord Ren has rearranged her itinerary."

"That Son of a…." the general grumbled something unintelligible then asked clearly, "To what?"

"Unknown, sir. But her docket became free as of 1200 hours. Although I believe the earlier openings were her doing, because she—"

"Were there any diplomatic appointments made?" Hux asked impatiently. "Any new ones?"

Ru considered, "I'd have to check, but as far as I knew all diplomatic transactions were rescheduled for tomorrow. I can find out if there have been any more recent alterations."

"Do so, and notify me immediately."

"Sir… Commander Rokens assigned me to teach the compliance course for the entire six hours," Ru explained hesitantly, "But I can—"

"Immediately, Lieutenant Commander," Hux's audio-filtered voice warned coldly.

"Yes, sir," Ru went to shut off his communicator, but hesitated, "General Hux, sir… I thought the princess was supposed to appear in sick bay to assist Dr. Wintlock as of 1300 hours."

"How many of the crew were privy to that information?"

"I can check, but I believe all the command staff, Lord Ren, her personal officer and stormtrooper escorts…" Resolder and Ru exchanged a look, "and some of the Hapes nobles knew."

Stumbling over his words, the lieutenant commander burst, "She had intended to assist Dr. Wintlock with your… ah… situation."

Delight echoed in Hux's voice, "I knew it! She did come here for me." He spoke to someone in the background, "Hah! I told you she came here to care for me." He asked directly into the line, "Where is the princess now?"

Ru frowned, pulling the communicator away from his mouth to eyeball it. He returned to the channel, "I'm not sure, sir. As far as I know, she was supposed to be in sick bay. But I have been trapped… ah… assigned to remain here with the Hapes nationals, sir."

He winced under Resolder's scowl.

"It's not like we wanted to be here ourselves," the teenager whispered harshly in return.

"Repeat that, lieutenant commander," Hux said.

"That was the compliance recording," he lied, furiously waving Resolder away.

"She's with Lord Ren," Resolder explained then whispered, "I sense their presences together."

Ru covered the communicator with his hand then repeated the boy's explanation into it, "It is believed that the princess is currently with Lord Ren."

"Of course," Hux growled.

"General?"

"Never mind," Hux hurriedly dismissed his inquiry, then added, "You will notify me immediately of any changes in her schedule." With that the line went silent.

Ru stared at his communicator… a warning feeling rising in his throat. There was a good reason why the general was asking. He just hoped that it wasn't the reason that he suddenly felt it was.

A moment later his communicator beeped again. Rubbing his eyes, he answered it, exhausted. "Yes, general, sir?"

A feminine laugh erupted over the line, "My Ru One… Promoting me to general is flattering, but to call me 'sir'?"  
Ru fumbled with the communicator nearly dropping it. "Your highness!"

Resolder opened his hand at the comm link with a 'told you so' expression.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Ru babbled, a little too eager to please, warranting a roll of Resolder's eyes in response.

A blasting wave of sordid music erupted in the background, the pirates leeringly cheering along.

Hesitation could be heard in Apple's audio-filtered voice, "Ummm… Ru, that is some… ah… interesting music you are listening to."

Resolder covered a laugh.

With a depleted groan, Ru dropped his head, "You don't want to know, your highness. You don't want to know."

 **—**

 *****It is nearly a week until Star Wars the Last Jedi appears in movie theaters. I will try to integrate it in my chapters, but since this is an alternate universe, there will be some obvious discrepancies. Please forgive the typos and grammatical errors. I only have time enough to write rough drafts at this point. Please PM me or write in a review. I love hearing from you. Thank you for reading. *****


	49. Chapter 49

The princess's quarters had a comfortable and delicate ambiance to them, designed to soothe… under normal circumstances. But at that moment, any Force sensitive passing by her doors could sense an enlivened debate inside.

Apple rubbed her temples, "Ben, just let me talk to Kylo."

Kylo Ren, or rather Ben, froze, drawing himself away from her rebuff. He ran his gloved fingers down a hologram picture frame, pretending to change the settings. "What makes you so sure that I am Ben now?"

"Because Kylo is the rational one," the princess gave him a sassy look then sat herself at an ornate harp.

She pulled the flowered harp back against her right shoulder to drag her fingers across the strings, strumming several octaves, "and you are hardly rational at this moment."

Ben threw his head back and laughed. "You're suggesting that we take on the Supreme Leader—Just the two of us. How is _that_ rational?"

"I didn't suggest anything," she plucked a soothing song that reminded him of the lullaby she had sung in the infirmary earlier, "You—and I mean—you Ben," she gave him a pointed look, "just assumed I meant that."

He watched her fingers graze the strings, producing gentle vibrations along the harp in multi-colored illuminations. "I had to force Kylo into his cage just to keep the jerk from agreeing with you on this foolhardy plan."

He threw his arm outward in a slicing gesture, "This could get us both killed."

"My plan is to increase your position in this universe," she told him, playing the song perfectly, "Not overthrow Snoke. If you came to that conclusion, you did so on your own. I made no mention to that affect."

His upper lip twitched. "Cute. Throw it back on me."

Apple sighed loudly. "Ben, why are you so exasperating?! You leap from 'let's see what we can do to further your career' all the way to full on insubordination within a matter of seconds!"

"Only after your suggestions."

"And there you go again," she shook her long curls, "always blaming others for your own ideas."

He smirked. "I adore this argumentative side of you."

"I'm not arguing with you," she grumbled, petulant and reproachful, "I just want you to achieve yours and father's dreams." The last part of her sentence almost came out as a whine but she reigned it in with a pout, "You are Lord Vader's only male heir—seeing as Luke gave up his inheritance."

She pleaded with him, "The entire family honor falls on your shoulders. Not mine-or anyone else's. But yours."

Ben moistened his lips. In the background of his psyche, his other personality delighted in the princess's words. Kylo took pleasure in anything relating him to Darth Vader, while Ben, on the other hand, argued more for their namesake.

He puffed out his cheeks, maintaining complete control. The Kylo alter tumbled back into the deepest reaches of their shared mind. There were other reasons why he didn't want that patricidal murderer to surface again… One of which was concerning the princess, which caused Ben to hesitate until he had more information concerning her true genetics. How much were they truly related?

It wasn't that he didn't trust Kylo with the princess's life. Quite on the contrary… Kylo was the one that surfaced the swiftest when her safety was threatened. He sought to protect her. The problem? Kylo's jealously over her was unsurpassable.

Ben admitted that he too became jealous, but in a slightly different way. He revered her and enjoyed her humor. She soothed him. And Ben was a creature of emotion, seeking happiness and relaxation—somewhat selfish and wholly spoilt. He wanted the monopoly on things that gave him happiness… which he refused to share with anyone else.

Yet, Ben wasn't about to admit that it was his idea to nearly kill Hux the moment the man vocalized his designs on Apple. Instead, he let the princess believe that it was a sith outburst from Kylo. Plausible enough. And yet, she still held Kylo to be the rational one?

True though, Kylo didn't mind taking the credit for putting Hux in the infirmary. And by Alderaan's ghosts, Kylo happily took over, halfway through. Alright. Two-thirds of the way through.

But Kylo finished the shellacking with hateful venom. Blaming it on that alter, was just fine with Ben. Fortunately for the doctor, Ben managed to seize control just in time to prevent Kylo from extending his anger to include Wintlock in the bashing.

At any rate, Ben knew full well that his darker half wouldn't harm the princess unless backed into a corner of betrayal by her… and Kylo was the one that refused to believe that she would betray them. It was another alter that believed all people were traitors and should be eliminated, but that personality didn't have the power to surface for more than a few seconds, and Kylo strong armed that alter the moment he raised his saber at their aunt.

Ben shook his head of it. But that was an entirely different matter altogether.

And a symptom of a greater problem. Instead of two personalities, there were more. And things could soon get out of hand, if what the Supreme Leader cajoled him into killing Apple.

 _It will never happen._ It was a faint echo but one that had enough strength to form words. Another particle alter they all nicknamed Paladin for his absurdly pious and prefect attitude. He stood firmly in their way of further familicide. To both Ben and Kylo's relief.

Ben closed his eyes as Paladin threw in his few credits, arguing with the Shadow alter concerning betrayal, while Kylo just watched embittered at all the cerebral noise.

As the personality in control, Ben massaged the sides of his head against their loud debate.

Apple trickled her fingers across the strings in a tender arpeggio. "Ahhh… you're battling with yourself again. That is the noisiest your mind has been in a while."

Ben froze. "How noisy?" He stammered, worried that she might have discovered the more embarrassing parts of the mental conversation.

She shrugged, "Oh Ben, you should know me by now—I don't pry into other people's minds. Prying leads to all kinds of mischief."

"And when have you," he smirked, "of all people decided to forsake mischief?"

She laughed. "Now, you are just trying to distract me away from the previous discussion at hand."

He stiffened.

"But if you truly want to know. All I hear is the mindless chatter of multiple voices coming from you." She strummed the harp, plucking its strings carefully, "So there are more than two inside you now? I had suspected it was the case earlier, but now…" she smiled at him, "I can sense that it is true."

The expressive and caressing sounds flowing out of her harp gave Ben added strength to remain in charge. And he needed that strength. It was true that there were many more alters that formed into cognition the moment Snoke threatened Apple's life. But for the moment, Kylo and Ben had them suspended… saving perhaps Mr. Love—an alter that craved having a girlfriend, and Paladin that managed to enter their debates. That and the angry one, Ben wanted to nickname Shadow, whom slipped up at weak moments of perceived betrayal. The others were more controllable… just fragments without names or phrenic purposes.

"It's part of the package deal," Ben grinned, attempting to diffuse the situation with levity.

She chuckled, "Kylo may be the rational one, but you do have a darling sense of humor."

That made Ben smile blushingly. "Perhaps, I missed my calling as a stand up comedian."

She laughed happily, "So you are the 'perhaps' boy? I knew that wasn't a Kylo word. Didn't sound like him at all."

Ben's smile wavered, under a surge of stress, "No, it's a Shadow word."

"Shadow?" Her fingers stopped picking at strings, blanching at the tips.

Her eyes flicked to him worried, "I have heard that name mentioned before."

"By me?" He was shocked, and mentally began pointing the finger at the other alters. _Which one of them…?_

"No," she said, moving her index finger and thumb up and down one string, "from an old acquaintance of mine. He had a similar problem…" she gave him a directed look, "Father was a tad too harsh in his training, so his personality split. One of them became the Shadow… a creature of betrayal."

For some reason, it seemed as though she was hiding something else. Something deeper and more frightening to her than just a passing problem with some sith's psyche.

Ben swallowed, then brushed the coincidence aside.

Quickly steering the conversation in a different direction, he said, "I didn't know you played the Nabooian harp."

Relaxing, Apple plucked another measure, humming a few notes before replying, "An imperial princess must acquire multiple talents, speak several languages, play a variety of soothing instruments, dance graceful dances, know politics of all the imperial planets, and sing like a mythical angel."

Ben chuckled not even caring to stifle his sarcasm, "Your education must've been extremely difficult."

The princess placed her hand against the strings, muffing their vibrations and pausing the song in order to look at him. "I spent many unforgettable hours sitting in the snow playing stringed instruments until my fingers bled. And that was just the stringed instruments… all 16 of them."

Her statement surprised him. "I thought you said you were lazy."

"I am lazy," she said than continued playing, "that doesn't mean I am not talented."

"Talented? Yes," he listened to her play, finding himself eager to plunk on the large plush hassock nearest to her, opening his mouth to say one thing, but instead Kylo took control of their mouth and asked bluntly, "but what about fighting with the Force?"

She smiled. "Welcome back, Kylo."

"He's not back," Ben regained control. "But it is a worthy question. Did grandfather ever train you to fight with the Force?"

"I am not entirely defenseless, if that's what you're wondering," Apple admitted mysteriously then shrugged, "But in the Empire or even in the Kathol Rim, feminine courtiers didn't fight," she plucked the strings, erupting a sparkling rainbow of colors congruent with the peaceful music. "Men battled, women entreated and soothed. Both societies agreed on that fact… and I was raised in them both."

A bitterness filled her voice, "Within the empire, I lived in the 'flower and willow world,' when father wasn't around," the acridity left her tone with her reminiscing smile, "In the Kathol Rim, the whole world was full of flowers and gentility, and was much more subdued for females."

A troubled look entered his eyes, "But women die on lightsabers precisely the same as men."

She blinked at moisture welling in her eyes and then crinkled her nose in a smile at him.

"I know that," she continued strumming.

Ben's face flushed and he pretended to busy himself with his lightsaber, "But Grandfather wouldn't want you to left defenseless. What about when rogue Force Users attack you?"

"That's what I have you for," she teased, "to protect me."

He mumbled, "I can't be there all the time."

"I know," she sighed, "once I am married, I will be under my husband's jurisdiction. Hopefully, he will be as adept in the Force as you."

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck, concerned, "but even then…"

The princess lifted her aquamarine eyes to his face… almost in an attempt to sidetrack their discussion, "Whom do you perceive the Emperor considered his greatest assets?"

Forearm on his thigh, he leaned forward as he repeated Kylo's thoughts snipping in the back of his mind, "Darth Vader and other sith, naturally. Then perhaps, the Imperial armada."

Apple smiled, continuing playing as she spoke, "Grandfather was known to say, 'A well-placed and well-trained noblewoman could easily bring an entire planet to its knees, or set a dynasty to fall before the empire without a sith having to lift a single lightsaber.'"

Her fingers coursed the length of the octaves in trilling hums, lighting the strings with soft sounds.

Ben closed his eyes. Her music took him back to his childhood and tempted to almost thrust him out of the control position. But he resisted the lure, determined to supersede.

"But that hardly makes them his greatest assets," Ben snickered, relishing the way her mouth twisted at his words… Or was it at the complex fingering she suddenly transitioned into?

"I didn't say they were his greatest assets; Grandfather hinted at it," she moved her foot on the harp's rear pedal to change the chord to include some extra sharps. "Have you ever heard of a woman named Carise Sindian?"

The dark knight slowly straightened himself, an ugly line forming on his mouth. "Lady Sindian, the Arkanis Senator?" His tone went hatefully sour, "Yes, I have heard of her."

Apple laughed at his response. "So I take it you believe she failed in her mission."

"Failed? An understatement. My mother eviscerated her." Lord Ren felt his his contempt rise, "That whore of Harpy"— actually he used a deeper more vulgar swear word, compliments of the Kylo personality—"attempted to discredit my mother by revealing that Darth Vader was her biological father to Ransolm Casterfo. He, in turn, published my mother's true heritage before the entire Senate. It cost my family greatly." He shifted his eyes away, muttering under his breath, "It cost _me_ greatly."

Apple stopped playing, sympathy etching her features. "I'm sorry: You didn't deserve that. If they only really knew father as I did, then they would have esteemed him and all his relations."

Chewing on her bottom lip, she hesitated flicking her eyes from him to her strings. "Carise was merely a low-ranking courtier, hardly worthy of your contempt. Verily, she was beneath our family in all categories."

A small smile tugged at the scowl on his mouth.

"Carise barely had enough royal blood to pump her ego, but not place her in true aristocratic circles. Although her lineage did allot her a favored place in the courtier's academy, it was only in the clandestine subspecialty."

Apple waved her hand down, grinning with mirthful pomposity, "Of course, she wasn't in my classes… Her rank was too insignificant to be accepted into my circles and—"

A dark smile curled up the side of his mouth—Kylo's pride surfacing.

"—her inferior status made her practically expendable, but I knew some of her teachers. And I knew of her class's mission. They were basically a contingency."

Apple hovered her fingers near the strings as if still debating on whether she should continue playing. "Grandfather may not have listened to my warnings against the fall of the empire," she tipped her shoulders towards him conspiringly, "Several Dark prophets tried to discredit my dreams, claiming another thousand years of imperial triumph. And since I was only a 13-year-old child crying from nightmares about rebels and exploding space stations, while they were hundreds of grown men praising the Emperor's immortal reign… Well…" She rubbed one ear self-consciously with a shoulder then her other ear.

The dark knight hoisted his eyebrows. "But you were correct—your ability in the Force to see the future must have been envied."

She shrugged, plucking a few strings to stop again. "Visions of the future are rather… erratic for me. Resolder and the Lieutenant Commander Ru—with some training—are going to supersede my ability at foresight any day now."

Kylo surfaced, staring at her unblinkingly. "Their powers are no match for yours, nor anyone else in our family."

"True in an overall sense," she rested her hands on the harp's acoustic board and leaned her temple against the instrument's ornate curvature, "but certain skills manifest better in some Force Users than in others. Despite overall power potential."

"Power is absolute." Kylo raised his fist. "The weak should be eliminated instead of exonerated for some small pittance that they can achieve."

She chuckled and resumed playing the harp, "You are so much like your grandfather, but he, on the other hand, knew from experience that there were several different categories of Force users. So there was good reason for my imperial grandfather to believe the Dark Prophets whom were career precogs. My only edge in the matter was that I had an emotional invested interest in the subject, whereas they did not."

"You just proved my point," Ben said back in control. "But what does any of this have to do with Lady Sindian's case?"

"I'm getting to that," Apple shook her head and plucked a cascade of strings before stopping again. "But as for my situation… it was like I said erratic… I couldn't control my Force visions. And Force skill is more about control than raw power. Only Chosen Ones are exceptions to the rule."

"Chosen Ones?" He accentuated the plurality.

"Another story, for another day," she shoved the inquiry aside.

Kylo quit the tangent, curious that she didn't further elaborate as was her norm.

Relenting, he reverted to the previous conversation, "But you were correct about the future, while the Dark Prophets were entirely amiss."

"They were snorting Spice," she told him, eyebrows raised practically to the ceiling, "Lots of Spice. And they didn't want to explain to a volatile Emperor that soon he would meet an untimely death along with his beloved space station—He tended to eviscerate messengers bearing unfortunate news."

Kylo bobbed his head to the side. "Understandable." He'd cut down enough fool messengers himself to believe the tale an accurate assessment.

The princess strummed another few chords, gliding her fingers along in a perfect glissando up and down the octaves. A heavenly sound.

The strings glowed through a range of hues with the movement casting a prism across her dainty arms and scarlet dress.

"Resolder and Ru are natural precogs. With some practice, they could become amazing at seeing the future—I'd trust their visions, especially Resolder's…" A little familial pride in that white-toothed grin.

"But both will become amazing at Force Sight, even if they're completely inferior to your prowess in Force Push." She nodded, noting tangentially, "You are superior in telekinetics. Supremely superior."

Kylo grinned darkly. The latch of his cloak dropped off his shoulder.

The princess pointed two fingers at it and the cloth obeyed lifting back onto his shoulder.

He glanced down at the material and snickered. "And you?" He flicked his eyes to her face, a half-smile twisted up the corner of his mouth. "Where does your skill truly lie?"

"My situation is different. I am just me," she answered simply, "Things come and go, and I don't practice because I don't care enough to practice. I'm not particularly interested in a career in the Force. But Father knew me well: I never lied and I was accurate on things. At least very accurate when," she emphasized pointedly, "I had visions. So he convinced my imperial grandfather to make a few contingencies just incase my visions of the future were correct.…"

She ventured on another interposition, "Granted, father would have preferred that Luke join him, so that the two of them could overtake grandfather and rule the universe together, but since Luke was a wuss…"

Kylo nodded a few times, completely agreeing. Luke was most certainly a wuss.

"Dad relied upon me and my visions of the future—and he made plans accordingly, hence my carbonite experience," she noted.

Apple leaned towards the dark knight, rounding up her tangent and said out the side of her mouth, "Actually, he didn't trust the politically-charged platherings of a herd of wimpy Dark Prophets sucking on Spice racks."

He laughed darkly. "Wise choice."

Placing her fingers on particular strings, she began playing a different song. "One of the contingencies he had the Emperor make was establishing Carise's class."

Kylo leaned backwards in realization, "I see."

"Among our ranks, her class were considered lower level bullies. Girls chosen for their aggressive and cruel tendencies—ones that could be molded into articulate politicians based on their familial relations and outward beauty. My circle—on the contrary— were trained to make planetary or kingship alliances. Her circle was more clandestine… devious and underhanded… Those girls could really be vicious—I remember when they mentally roughed up one of one of my most favored friends, Villette Tarkin."

The Dark knight stiffened at the mention of Hux's mother.

"Carise, although 'technically' a royal was more of a female thug, instructed that if the Empire fell," Apple plucked a small reel, "she was to secretly infiltrate the Senate and set up the foundation for a return of imperial edicts."

He straightened, "She was a First Order supporter?"

"Probably one of its primogenial members."

The princess continued playing what he finally recognized as an old imperial folk song. She spoke as she played, "I don't know how Carise developed a relationship with Snoke or how he came to power, but I do know of her original mission. And I imagine in part through her works, the First Order was established and the Senate set up for destruction. In that aspect, maybe… her work wasn't as unsuccessful as you imagined it to be."

She gave him a sidelong look, "Despise her or not. Expendable or not. Carise accomplished what she was designed to do."

Kylo considered the ramifications. "Remarkable, and all this time, I thought…"

"Clandestine measures…" she told him simply, "Take time and slow purposeful execution. And remember, Carise was just a female thug… scoring intellectually well below the minimum requirements for entrance into the class two levels beneath my very own."

The look became more direct then softened with a dip of her head and a strumming of a lovely piece, "She attended inferior courses… rather subpar. But what did she accomplish?"

Kylo pierced his lips, leaning his shoulders away.

Apple didn't wait for him to elaborate, "I imagine Carise forced your mother—whom was considered a threat to the empire—to step down from a more powerful political position and was able to insert tiny pieces of imperial ideology into the Senate? And possibly at the same time, encouraged certain wealthy men to fund the growth of imperial-minded factions?"

Opening his position slowly, he allowed her words to sink into both his main personalities' thoughts. He clenched his fist of the arm he leaned on, then relaxed his knuckles, torn between hatred of the Lady Sindian and realization of the overall scheme set in place by the deceased Emperor.

"It was true. Mother stepped down from her nomination to First Senator. And there was reason to believe that Sindian arranged a front organization for early First Order finances."

The princess's fingers plucked a complicated arrangement of notes, "And she was just one woman too. There were many in those courses. Many."

Her eyes skimmed his features, "I imagine that many of the imperial loyal planets have a woman from the courtier's academy either married to a ruling dignitary or as his mistress. Well-placed women."

She played the strings delicately and gracefully in a manner that appeared as though her fingers were dancing, "These ladies are typically overlooked as just aesthetic adornments on brilliant dignitaries' arms. Quiet and purposeful, they actually are trained to work behind the scenes to turn their assigned men's heads towards the Emperor's preset goals."

The Dark Knight racked his brain and other personalities, searching for connections… Realizing that she was more eerily correct than even he would've preferred to admit.

She plucked notes with her left hand and smoothed her right fingers down the strings evoking a soft hissing on the higher-pitched register. "And imagine if your mother was on our side—trained in the imperial courtier academy. Married to the right dignitary, she could have been a force to be reckoned with."

She stopped playing suddenly, thronging the notes. A guilty expression crossed her face. "Ben, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up your mother's unfortunate—I mean, non-imperial marriage," she grimaced, "I mean smuggler marriage…" she stumbled over her words, face reddening.

Giving up on backpedaling, she just let her words trail off instead of attempting to mend them.

"My father deserved to die," Kylo replied, gaining complete control in regards to his father's death, "He was a massive disappointment."

Apple dropped her hands from the harp and looked down, a tear tumbling over her lashes. "I just wish my sister would come to see reason and…" she wiped the tear with the back of her hand, "join you in bringing order and safety to the universe. If only she had known her real father, she'd see what a good man he was and what a good cause he fought for. That he only sought the safety of countless planets. To rid them of crime and corruptness."

She wiped away another tear, sniffling, "If papa had known Leia was truly his, he would have taken her back from that evil Bail Organa. I mean really?" She finally looked at him, setting the harp back on all its four pegs, "Who steals someone else's child? Denying them their true heritage? Who does that? It's despicable!"

The dark knight didn't know exactly how to respond.

"What kind of scumbag takes a baby girl away from her own family and raises them to despise order and justice?!" She cried, with more tears this time, sobbing enough to tremble her shoulders, "And turns her into a terrorist, bent on destroying everything that is safe and cultured?"

In one bounding step, Kylo engulfed her small form in his arms. He brushed his lips against the top of her head. "I will force her to see reason," he murmured against her curls.

Dropping to his knee before her, Kylo peered into her eyes, roughly wiping the tears from her face. "Our family will be one… I promise they will yield to our side…or," his expression hardened with malice, "I will personally eliminate them, one by one," he caressed her cheek with the backs of his gloved fingers, "so that you will never have to mourn their weakness again."

She smoothed the fabric on his shoulders straightening the edges of his cape around his neck, "No… that burden should not be yours to bear…" She kissed his forehead, lingering there, eyes troubled…. then buried her head against the nook of his neck to sob.

She cried lightly against his shoulder for a small while, then sniffled, mumbling weakly into the fabric of his sleeve, "Father suffered terribly from his losses. I don't want you endure that kind of agony—you deserve better."

A sentimentality for Darth Vader wafted off her… and a deep love for him, coupled with a desire to see Kylo have happiness. Normally, her mind was impenetrable but at that moment, she was open and vulnerable.

He could easily sense her love and tenderness. No deceit. Just love coupled with sorrow

Kylo embraced her closer, inhaling her floral fragrance. "For you, I would suffer a thousand agonies."

Gently, Apple pulled away, concern flickering on her features.

She fussed with his uniform again, fingers trembling. "No… retrieve your mother. Take her from that horrible resistance that feeds her mind with lies. Bring her here, where she can be safe with her family."

She tipped her chin down to look at him from under her eyelashes in a child-likely optimistic manner that melted his reserve, "I'll talk to her. I can help her see reason. And then we'll all be together," hope flickered into her eyes, "just like father always wanted."

Idealistic, she smiled despite the tears glistening on her cheeks. "You can have your dreams and your mother too, I'll make sure of that. We'll all be one happy family."

She pushed his hair behind his ears in mothering gesture. "And when Leia's married to a heroic, devoted but handsome,"—a devilish smile erupted on her lips for a short moment—"imperial… or First Order loyalist—she'll be able to influence the universe for good instead of bad. It shouldn't be too hard finding a loyal man worthy of her. Even Prince Isolder would immediately give up his worlds for her."

Kylo scowled at the mention of the man's name. "I'd kill him first."

With a chuckle, Apple cupped the sides of his face with her hands and cooed, "Then you decide what good, dutiful soldier of justice within the empire or the First Order would be worthy of her favor…and I," she emphasized, with pretend conceit, "will play matchmaker."

She dropped her hands to his shoulders to give them a playful squeeze. "It doesn't matter who he is as long as he's a man in good standing with our cause… and is loving and kind to her. Maybe an older Sith?"

He made a churlish face, "My mother would not accept a sith."

"She would if he was devastatingly handsome, had a great sense of humor and a large pocketbook," She grinned, mischievously scrunching her nose close to his.

"No, that is you. My mother is more…" Kylo didn't laugh as Ben would have, but an amused wry line curled up one corner of his mouth. "…complicated."

Throwing her head back, she laughed. "So she prefers bad boys like rebel smugglers—We all have our weaknesses. You refuse to wear anything other than black. And I have an obsession for pink fluffy things."

He smiled at her room, "Hardly would have guessed."

"But it all doesn't matter as long as we're a family as we were always meant to be." She grinned wiping her tears with the back of one hand and patting his shoulder with her other, "Together we'll be happy, I just know we will."

"And Luke?" His eyes darkened dangerously.

"I don't know," she became suddenly solemn.

Apple tapped her fingers against her lips for a couple of beats before speaking, "He doesn't sound like much of a family man. He might prefer solitude to being with the rest of us. And I wouldn't want to force him into doing something he wasn't accustomed to—that would be too cruel."

"Even if it was justice?"

Apple pondered things a moment, "It is best to leave those kind of ethical questions up to you and the good general. I can not say," she nibbled on her bottom lip, "But it might be quite disconcerting for him, if we try to capture him for family reunions and festive parties. I just want Luke to be happy and know that he is loved."

"You don't even know him," Kylo snarked, "How can you love someone, you've never met?"

"He is my brother…sort of. Besides, love is for everyone, especially family," she beamed then said straightly, "I would love the universe if it wasn't so scary sometimes."

"Love," he said with contempt, "is a weakness, if it is not earned."

"At least, you're admitting now that there are some aspects of love that are not weaknesses." She teased.

"It is a weakness," he scoffed, "to show Luke any love. He doesn't deserve your compassion."

"Doesn't he?" Her eyes searched his face as if examining every detail.

"He's a jedi hermit," Kylo didn't bother to conceal his disgust, "All he does is hide."

Apple ran her fingers along his scar. "You wound is healing nicely. It looks like the one father had in his youth," she said then pulled her fingers away to fold them in her lap.

She abandoned the temporary sidetrack, "Well…Luke is a jedi. They do hide. Could you blame them though? Criminals or not, they are hunted mercilessly."

Kylo gave her the look. "He's practically useless."

Apple froze. "Useless? For one with the Force? And in our family? Impossible."

"Trust me, he's useless."

"And the First Order has him labeled as most wanted man in the universe?" Apple surprised him with her seriousness, "Does the Supreme Leader himself see Luke as useless or as a an actual threat?"

Kylo postulated her question. "Useless. Rather a stepping stone. But the idea of him is a threat."  
"Did Snoke initiate another jedi purge?"

"No…" Kylo stretched his left shoulder back, and scratched it. "They're largely dead: the last jedi temple burnt to the ground years ago. Now our focus is on eliminating the remnant of the Republic and the Resistance."

"Then Luke is a member of the Resistance?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, "he abandoned battle long ago."

"And yet an universe-wide manhunt was enacted in order to find him?"

Kylo shrugged, "Why not? He's a jedi. He deserves to die."

"Jedi are outlaws," she conceded, then smoothed her hair behind her ear, "But something about this whole affair doesn't quite make sense."

"What aspect of a manhunt for a jedi criminal does not make sense to you?" He was astonished.

Apple looked him square in the eye. "The possible outcome. Tell me, does Snoke want him alive or dead?"

"Alive."

At his answer, Apple closed her eyes, features paling. "Stars forbid," she whispered.

"Why should we care whether the Supreme Leader wants Luke alive or dead?" He just stared at her, astonished. "He's a Jedi."

But at his question, she didn't reply or even flinch. She remained staring sightless at the ground. Numb… colorless… and deathlike… As if trapped in a nightmare.

Out of habit, he ran his fingers over his lightsaber concerned. "Apple?" She didn't stir. "Apple!"

She snapped out of her pale daze, startled. "Oh?"

"What happened to you?" He searched her face. Her color started returning.

"Nothing important," she dismissed his perplexity with a toothy grin, "I was just thinking about something, that's all."

"I thought you preferred to see my uncle alive and well… and, " he curled his upper lip in contempt, "happy."

"I do," she replied, smiling again.

Relieved, he removed his hand from his saber.

"But what worries me," she puckered her bottom lip sulkily, "is why the Supreme Leader wants him alive. Do you know exactly why Snoke wants him if Luke's such an isolationist and is… supposed to be…uh, useless?"

The question took him back, giving Ben a chance to regain control. "I imagine to kill him by his own hand…"

"That doesn't make much sense," she postulated. "There is no incentive for the Supreme Leader to become so… personally engaged in the whole affair. Even when my imperial grandfather desired Luke to join us, he still had my father handle the transactions."

Ben shrugged, shifting his eyes to the side. "He has his reasons. I don't mind killing felons—He may relish it more than even I."

"Yes, but you are not an emperor…" Apple said, "And as far as the Supreme Leader is concerned," she cupped her elbow with her other hand, resting her fingers under her chin in consternation, " it's easy to conjecture that he is most likely in the same mindset as my imperial grandfather… Unless…?"

"Unless what?"

Apple's eyes brightened a tinge, "Why don't we play a little game. I surmise a possible profile for the Supreme Leader based on what I have discovered so far and you inform me if my assumptions are correct—"

"That is: if," he emphasized meaningfully, "your profiling is remotely accurate?"

"So I look forward to meeting him," she said with a grin.

Black eyebrows nearly touching his hairline, the dark knight glanced at her through the side of his vision. "I wouldn't be so optimistic. He is hardly forgiving of the vices and follies of others."

Impish, she pretended to be offended. "I don't have any vices or follies!"

The dark knight laughed. "So you say."

Whimsically plucking at a few harp strings, she prattled, "Come come. You know I am perfect and," she leaned her head back with a comical grin, "just plain adorable."

"Apple, be serious for once. Your girlie optimism is foolhardy." He plopped on the hassock next to her to snatch her hands in his, "Don't take this affair lightly. It could get you killed."

His gloved fingers twitched nervously on her hands. "Impress the Supreme Leader. Demonstrate what you are worth to the First Order… without appearing as a threat and you'll live."

"We'll see." The princess extracted her hands from his grip.

With a smile she patted his shoulder. "How about it then?"

"What?" He scrunched his features at her question.

"Our game."

With an exasperated grunt, he slapped his hands against his thighs and stood giving her his back. "Everything is a game with you."

"Ah…" she said, "But some games are worth playing, especially the game, 'know your enemy.'"

Ben put his chin to his shoulder to glance back at her without turning around. "And the Supreme Leader is your enemy?"

"Do you consider him as such?"

"I…" his mind raced, multiple personalities debating, "He is my master."

"What time are we to audience with him?"

"At 1800. In two hours."

"Perfect," she clapped her hands, "then we have time. And time to eat, and…"

He groaned, scouring his face with his hands. "You are impossible."

"It is just a game, Ben," she smoothed the gown's creases on her lap. "We play. We eat. I make assumptions and you… my handsome boy, tell me if I am correct. If I'm right, I win. If I'm wrong, you win."

He took a few steps further away but stopped, intrigued, "I accept your challenge. But you must impress the Supreme Leader with your loyalty to the First Order and demonstrate your usefulness to his cause."

"Don't worry," she stood to pat his elbow, "I will not embarrass you. Father trusted my courtly resolve."

She brushed past him, filling his nostrils with the scent of Hapan vanilla and flowers. "So should you."

A smile lit his lips as he was tempted to follow her with his eyes, but he still refrained—looking at her at the moment would threaten to bring Kylo to the surface again. "And what shall we wager in our game?"

She laughed, "Ben, you are too much. You know as well as I do that whatever you wager, Kylo will not honor."

He laughed loudly. "True."

"But first," she stood, feeling her way to her vanity, "I need to call Ru."

Shock made him choke. "The Lieutenant Commander?" A scowl stole the levity from his face. "Whatever for?"

Her smile widened slowly, "It's a surprise."

 ******Please forgive any autocorrect errors, typos, or grammar errors. This was a fast run through since there are only 7 more days until the release of The Last Jedi. Please write in reviews or comments, I really appreciate reading them and love responding. Thank you for reading!*****


	50. Chapter 50

Lieutenant Commander Ru tugged on his gloves. Many of the items in the inventory were interesting mementos that tingled his fingers with flashes of the princess's memories. But others were… frightful. He started down at the stash of antique lightsabers perched categorically next to a large _levenfierte_ display. The bright white light reflected from the display showing off the artifacts against the white transparent polymer casing. A delightsome exhibit. But the sensations that wafted of the weapons made the young lieutenant commander jittery.

"That troublesome?" Resolder asked, peering over his shoulder at them. It was obvious that the word 'troublesome' was only because his Basic vocabulary lacked colloquial understanding.

Ru glanced back at him, expression stagnant. Typically, the question would have warranted a suspicious glare, but the Hapes nobleman was wholly innocent and wide eyed.

A loud sigh instead escaped Ru's lips instead of a curt reply. "You can sense it too?"

Resolder shook his head. "No, but I can sense that you sense it… What is that you are sensing off those things?"

"Death," the lieutenant commander answered after a small beat.

Resolder jumped back a few steps. "Off those things? Lightsabers are they called?"

Ru shifted his eyes back to the weapons, but two feet away from them was as close as he was willing to get. "Yes. I'm not particularly sure why the princess has them in her collection."

"There are seven of them," the young noble noted, "If the Shakal wanted one, I could see that easily. But seven?"

Hands clasped behind his back, Ru shrugged, "The princess has her reasons."

"I wonder how many people were killed by those things." Resolder eyeballed the sabers around the lieutenant commander's side, "I've never seen one used in person before. Have you?"

"Unfortunately yes," Ru stifled a shudder. "Lord Ren wields one but his one is much larger."

Resolder sniggered. "And you know this, how?"

Sensing the younger man's deviation of emotion to a more sordid humor, Ru rolled his eyes, chastising, "And I thought you were a noble."

With that, the teenager forced an awkward cough, quickly sobering. "What is all this stuff?" Hands in his pockets, he waved his shoulder at the room in a surly gesture.

The princess's shuttle inventory spanned out before them in display cases lit brighter than the majority of other decks on the Star Destroyer. Even the walls were a much lighter hue of silver. Combined with the lighting, white display cases, and paler walls, the large room appeared almost like some mythical version of a white sterile heaven.

Small inset lamps shone upwards from behind or beneath the antiques individually illuminating them as though the space itself was a small museum. Or it could have been mistaken for an aristocrat's valuables collection. It was a design ordered specifically by General Hux. And before the princess woke, it was often frequented by him.

In fact, Ru could still sense his touch on many of the items in the room… except… the lieutenant commander frowned… the lightsabers. No one had touched them except the random crew members assigned to neatly line them on the display and the siths that once owned them.

Again, Ru shuddered. The screams… he could sense the screams of the dead wafting of the evil things.

"Are you sure these are what the Shakal wanted?" Resolder made a face.

Ru puffed his cheeks out then exhaled again slowly. "Yes…" Unclasping his hands, Ru reached for an ornate box, "And these." He opened the box to reveal small crystals, glistening in the bright lights.

"Seven again?" The teenager observed.

"Actually," Ru corrected, fondly smiling at the cloudy-white almost transparent stones, "There were eight. Her highness removed one this morning."

"You like those," Resolder stared at the lieutenant commander with unnerving understanding, "What are they?"

"I don't know." Ru avoided touching the crystals per previous instruction, but out of all the items in that room, he felt a strong draw to pick up at least one of the transparent rocks. "Some sort of important crystal. Maybe a geological sentimentality?"

"But you really like them," Resolder observed, moving closer to peer into the box then glanced up at the older man, "I think it is amazing how you can just touch something and know…" he searched for the right word, his accent accentuating the more rounded consonants, "Your language doesn't have a word for a 'deep and meaningful knowledge of something,' does it?"

"No," Ru closed the box to eliminate the temptation. "We just use the words 'knowledge' or 'understanding.'"

Moistening his lips, Resolder paused as if considering. "And your language only has one way of saying 'you' rather than formal or informal means. Or the words for different types of friends, are limited to the word 'friend' with modifiers."

"Yes," Ru confirmed, actually appreciating the teenager's exploration of linguistic differences. "Basic is well… Basic."

"But it isn't your native tongue?"

"No," Ru answered, not bothered by the question. The boy was hardly being nosey; he was rather attempting to… bond with someone similar to himself.

"My grandparents were from Naboo," the lieutenant commander explained with a slight smile, "and even after they moved my parents to Coruscant, they spoke Naboo in the home. We all spoke it in the home, even after we moved to," his smile wavered, "the unknown regions."

"I've never seen Naboo before," Resolder's dark eyes shifted back and forth as if trying to recollect a study or a reading, "That planet is not listed in our galactic archives. Coruscant is, but not many other outside planets."

Ru patted the younger man on the shoulder. "Understandable. Everyone knows the Hapes Consortium typically keep to themselves."

Relief flooded the boy's face. "After the collaboration… we'll work to learn more about the outside universe. Tell me about Naboo."

Ru considered where to start, but ended up blurting the foremost information that he was raised on. "The Emperor Palpatine was from Naboo, a triumph for our countrymen and marking our world in the historical archives forever. His Highness Palpatine was the representative Senator from there before he elected as Chancellor, and then later became the esteemed Emperor."

Resolder just looked at him.

Even Ru knew that the spiel sounded programmed. With a self-depreciating chuckle, he continued, "It was his homeworld, so my parents and grandparents had a lot of national pride. Naboo's beautiful really…Lots of waterfalls and greenery. Flowers bloom everywhere and at certain parts of the year, you can smell the flowers change from a sweet nectar to this lovely fruit scent—that just… takes one's breath away. Although it is a little humid for my taste during the Changing Season," he described candidly then smiled nostalgic, "it is simply breathtaking and temperate." He gave him a direct look. "And peaceful for the most part."

"So your family kept the language alive in the home?" Resolder clarified more for himself, "For the planet's beauty or for the Emperor?"

Ru laughed heartily. "Both probably. But my family were and still are dedicated imperial loyalists. My parents are proud they were born on the Emperor's home planet. And their parents even moreso, encouraging them to marry only Nabooians—and they happily did so. Thus, in following the family tradition…my brother and I are expected to either unite with imperialists or those from Naboo."

"And produce many heirs?" A wry look crossed Resolder's face. He slouched back against a lighting pillar, grinning. "Sounds like my family concerning Hapes aristocracy."

Ru met his grin with understanding. "Any siblings?"

Resolder's smile disappeared and he straightened himself to glance away. "I am the only one left, save for the Prince consort and Prince Fusolder. And of course, the Shakal. The rest were executed by the…" Contempt forced his voice to waver, as if he contemplated a swear word or two, "…current Queen Mother."

The boy blurted in a manner one would if pronouncing a death sentence on the Queen, "Long live the Shakal and swiftly may she commence her reign."

The Lieutenant Commander's overall stiffness slackened with sympathy. "One of the First Order's mottos is: 'Unite in revenge. We will take back what is rightfully ours.'"

He waited for the younger man to look back at him, meeting the noble's eyes in vengeful accordance, "As one with us now, your people may freely partake in our motto's outcome."

Resolder saluted him in a slightly askew but still appropriate First Order manner, "May your Resistance fall into disarray and the filth of a Queen Mother be trampled under First Order boots."

He hesitated, arm wavering, a troubled expression etching his handsome features. Then dropped his arm, accidentally bumping Ru's shoulder. "It is an embarrassment that such a ignominious creature such as her is the Queen Mother. I hold no pride in the Hapes court."

The faint brush alerted Ru to the boy's emotional wrenching.

"Then instead take pride in knowing this," the lieutenant commander said sympathetically but with a tight line on his lips, "that false Queen Mother originated from none of your planets. Yet, the princess—who is pure and good, and noble—descended from the greatest of your home world as well as from mine."

An appreciative smile broke across Resolder's face. "That holds great truth."

"Not a bad phrase," a teasing smirk tugged at the corner of Ru's mouth. "But there are better Basic colloquialisms, such as, 'Do garrals have freckles,' or 'True as Coruscantean toast.'"

Resolder's grin widened. "Do garrals have freckles? I like speaking this language more and more."

 ******I know that The Last Jedi came out in theaters today. I haven't seen it and it may very well be a month or so before I actually do... So please keep in mind that there will not be any spoilers from TLJ in my story, and if there are any similarities to information it it... I swear to you that it is not because I am writing spoilers, but would be instead merely coincidences.**

 **Anyway, this was written quickly and may have a lot of typos or errors in it. I spent less than an hour on it, so forgive me. So please excuse the mistakes. And I really love hearing your reviews, so please send them in-and any suggestions are more than welcome..******


	51. Chapter 51

"All these antiques from the Galactic Empire?" Resolder bent over to peer through a transparent artistically twisted pillar of crystal.

"Correct," Lieutenant Commander Ru struggled against a lopsided smile. "The majority were discovered in the princess's personal shuttle. The rest were collected by General Hux throughout the years."

The art piece distorted Resolder's features through its transparent surface with the humor of a funny mirror. Large nose, tiny beady eyes. Massive lips.

Ru covered a chuckle with his fist. "The general keeps the most valuable pieces in a safe in his office and others suited to the princess were carefully selected to decorate her quarters."

With pride, the officer surveyed the room for the hundredth time. "No other ship in the entire fleet contains such a complete inventory of imperial relics, especially those regarding the royal family."

"These are in excellent condition." Resolder stood up to knowingly grin at him, "The general must truly value our Shakal."

The lieutenant commander's smile wavered concerned at the insinuation. "Our imperial princess," he corrected possessively then clarified, "And there is not a soldier within the First Order that does not esteem her highness. The general is no exception to that fact."

Perhaps that was an exaggeration. Some of the younger First Order members were not raised on the stories of the empire. So it might be assumed that they probably do not hold the same worshipful perspective as those born to imperial families.

"Hope not being wasted," Resolder said with a thick accent, "I'm afraid there will be several attempts on her life in the next while."

The lieutenant commander furrowed his brow at the awkward wording he used. Typically, the boy spoke almost perfect Basic, but every once in a while there was this untoward sentence structure.

Ru followed him towards a display of shimmering fabrics. "Is it true that you saw yourself defending her with another Force adept from an older sith Lord?"

Resolder shrugged—not the shrug of a turbulent teenager but the controlled shrug of a career nobleman—and he weaved away from the golden fabric, plucking it with fingers causing the textile to sparkle in the artificial lights. "Unfortunately."

Shifting his weight, Ru debated whether or not to inquire further. Curiosity and concern won out. "Was the older sith this man?" He showed the Hapes noble an image of Snoke on his datapad.

Resolder made a face at the Supreme Leader's scarred appearance and coughed a gagging noise. "Man, he's ugly."

The officer bristled. "He's the Supreme Leader."

Resolder just stared at him. "Doesn't mean he's not ugly."

Despite himself, Ru laughed. He appreciated the boy's candor. It could get him killed, but that doesn't mean it wasn't worthy of admiration.

"But was he the one you saw yourself defending the princess from?"

Resolder shook his head, lips pierced in a grossed line. "No. But someone should put him out of our misery of looking at him."

"Those are incriminating words," Ru warned coldly.

"In the Hapes Consortium," Resolder explained, "someone that hideous would never be allowed to rule. If he's smart, he'd end himself."

"It is not a question of looks," Ru straightened his uniform in a snapping motion, "It is a question of ability."

"Where I come from: A person's appearance," Resolder poked at a gelatinous art piece, "and beauty equate to true leadership ability." The glistening ball lurched and fluctuated in response.

Ru scrunched his brow, "But what if the beautiful person is a complete and utter imbecile—I've witnessed that condition enough to poise an accurate complaint against your assessment."

Resolder blinked at him. A look that all but said, 'you are such a nerd.'

"Within the Hapes Consortium," the noble explained, "the more superior the genetics and intellect, the more outwardly beautiful and symmetrical the person."

"Your culture places too much credence on physical beauty."

"The current and ill-favored Queen Mother," Resolder didn't bother to mask his contempt, "is appalling to look at. Even thick veils cannot cover her unsightly features—And she is insane. Is that not proof enough for you?"

"That's not even a statistic."

"That's an example."

"One," Ru retorted. "One individual example. Scientific studies are quantifiable only through large samples of subjects. One must have concrete, quantitative evidence that is based on subject pools of thousands, not on only one indiv—" He cut himself off mid-word, realizing that Resolder had long since glazed over.

He threw up his hands, "Why am I even discussing this with you? Everyone knows beauty is subjective."

"Not to us," he eyed the sphere, moistening his lips and holding out his hands. The art piece wobbled under his force only slightly.

The transparent sphere folded around his finger then bounced sending a spray of color around the room. "Even a man must be beautiful in order to lead." He lifted his dark eyes to him, "If a man is permitted to lead at all."

The lieutenant commander uncoiled his shoulders to a militaristic position, but twisted his mouth irritatedly. One, the Hapes Consortium's feminism was hypocritical and two… Hapes men were uncomfortably too liberal for his taste in discussing whether or not another man was handsome or 'beautiful'.

"Here men lead," Ru stated the obvious, avoiding the more awkward subject of men's aesthetic assessments of each other.

Resolder poked the sphere again, "I'm not entirely against masculine leadership," he jostled it from both sides, causing the ball to bobble and dance like jelly, "as long as the Shakal is in accordance with it."

"She is a feminine loyalist," Ru explained, clasping his hands behind his back.

"She's too nice," Resolder commented then grinned at the sphere as it bounced and undulated. He slapped its sides. "The Hapes noblewomen will try to eat her alive."

"They will die first."

"I know." Resolder smacked the sphere around a little more. It flopped and waggled, nearly rebounding into the boys' chin. " _Ech'ol_ , this orb is diverting."

Ru watched the spherical art piece jiggle for a moment then returned to their previous discussion. "But are you sure the Supreme Leader is not the sith you saw attacking the princess?"

"The man I saw had gray hair," Resolder looked at him directly, "—a full head of it. And a beard. He may have been plain, but he wasn't nearly as misshapen as that ugly…" his face contorted with distaste. But his political training took over, causing him to censor his words, "your leader."

Ru knit his brow and scratched behind his ear. "Are you positive?"

"Yes." A worried expression fluttered on his face at Ru's scratching, "You're not re-infected are you?" He practically jumped back, nearly knocking over a line of Coruscantean beadwork.

The oblique objects jostled.

Ru bounded forward to steady the menagerie. He glared at the kid, "No." He sneered irritated at the insinuation, "I never was infected. Your people brought the vermin aboard our ship."

With a sigh of relief, Resolder helped him rearrange the artifacts. "You'll never know the agony of space lice."

"I don't want to know," Ru curled his lips in disgust.

He followed the younger man's exploration of the items, half wary the teen was going to break something. "Then whom was the other Force adept helping you protect her?"

Resolder picked up a golden ornate hair pin. Tiny metal flowers dangled from its thin gold chains, while the bulk of the pin was decorated with colored jewels in the sculpture of a beautiful winged insect. "Not Lord Ren," he answered Ru's unspoken question.

"He had blond or silver hair." Resolder glanced up at the lieutenant commander's hairline. "Not unlike your shade."

"Would you be able to identify him, if you saw an image of him?"

The regal shrug again. "I didn't see his features that well—The scenery was too dark."

"Was he young or old?"

Resolder gave him a slit eyed look. "He wasn't wrinkled or ugly if that's what you are asking."

Ru's eyebrow twitched then he broke out into an amused grin. "Hardly."

Resolder met his grin with a white-toothed one of his own.

Opening his mouth to comment, he swung his dark eyes to the door instead. Taking a retreating step, the teenager trembled, his olive skin paled considerably.

"The Shakal brought _him_?"

About to ask, the lieutenant commander found he didn't have to. That angry, powerful presence was unmistakable… And for some reason, the dark lord felt more foreboding as if he was finally unleashed from a Force harness.

Ru swallowed the large knot of apprehension forming in his throat. "I can sense him?"

"Who couldn't?" Resolder commented, tilting his upper body away from the door with a grimace. "It's like sensing a black cloud of death." Fear etched in his features. "A chaotic… hateful… poisonous…black cloud of death."

"The Supreme Leader is said to be more erroneous." Ru straightened his uniform out of habit and smoothed the fabric on his sleeves. "Much more erroneous."

"Is he truthfully?" Resolder asked, but from the expression on his face, it was evident that instead of poising a question, he challenged the concept. "Or is that your current assessment of the situation?"

The boy knew something. Something dangerous.

Yet, Ru didn't comment on the telepathic hint. Instead, he was distracted by his own increase in the mysterious thing called by the superstitious as the… sixth sense.

And it was peculiar how by just recognizing the fact that he had the Force, Ru could feel his sensory abilities increase by the parsec. His cheek twitched. Yet, increasing in Force powers was not necessarily a beneficial thing… especially in the First Order.

 ******I have tried to publish this chapter several times over the past week but kept getting an error message. So I'm breaking it down into small parts. Hopsfully, I will be able to publish it that way.******


	52. Chapter 52

Lieutenant Commander Ru was torn between retreating and exploring his new found ability to feel the presences of other Force sensitives. When the pressure almost became too much for him, a surge of feminine mirth and benevolence pierce through Lord Ren's cloud of hatred right as the door hissed open. The young officer pivoted to face the entering couple.

Ru pierced his lips to keep from gaping his mouth. There he was—astonishingly so— perceiving Lord Ren's and the princess's vibes. Their dichotomous vibes. One soothing and pleasing. The other… in a single word: Malignant. While Apple was an enthusiastic fountain of exuberance and softheartedness, her nephew—on the other hand—was a pit of misery and… Well the man was just plain irritable and cagey.

"Moving too slow Kylo," the excited princess complained, practically dragging the not-so excited dark knight through the door by his wrist.

Lord Ren all but dug his heels in. "I'm not interested in antiques."

"Says the man whom cherishes his grandfather's helmet," she teased, this time tugging in his wrist with both hands. "Come."

The girl had pluck.

For a unconventional second, the dark knight's scowl lessened. Yet, it was self-limiting. Then the angry frown returned with a vengeance when he shot his eyes to the other two men. Murder slit their blue depths. Like two evil, blue daggers.

Both of them retreated a step.

"Lord Ren," Ru stammered with a sharp salute. "Your highness."

The princess waved off his salutation. "Don't be so formal."

Dropping Kylo's wrist, Apple rushed towards the lieutenant commander to throw her arms around him. She grinned way up at his face, "I sense happiness in here. You did this, didn't you?"

Eyes softening, Ru's cheeks took on a controlled pinkish hue. "General Hux ordered the display cases, I just arranged things according to…" He glanced up at the Lord Ren and swallowed in an audible gulp. The dark knight was in an especially horrible mood.

Ru stuttered, "It …was a… logical—"

"Logical according to energetically wavelengths… in other words the Force." Apple playfully knuckled his arm, hardly a tap.

Then she patted his shoulder approvingly, "Good job. I can easily sense everything in here," she said then hopped off to happily explore the room without bumping into a single synthetic item. "It's like I can see perfectly. Oh, this makes me so happy."

Ru beamed as he watched her flit from each item like a carefree nectar bird.

Kylo narrowed his eyes. And when Ru met the dark knight's deadly gaze, he practically jumped out of his skin.

Instinctively—and rather shakily—Ru saluted the man… again, "Lord Ren."

Kylo shifted his eyes back to the princess, whom prattled on in her perky bubbly manner weaving in and out of displays.

"Father had asked me what I wanted to take with me," she turned to peer back at them over a gaudy imperial vase, "so I made him a huge list, but this," she pointed at the vase making a face, "I honestly don't know how it got in here. This belonged to my cousin who was a complete fop…" she whispered conspiringly, "And he collected creepy things. Probably has someone's ashes in it."

The lieutenant commander chuckled and ducked his head.

"Get to the point," Kylo snipped, "Why are we here?"

"Well…" Apple folded her fingers together, pushing her palms to the ground while mischievously swishing her hips. "…in the Empire, there was a huge holiday celebration about this time during the winters on Coruscant and Naboo…"

"Giving Days." Ru guessed with a smile, "My family still celebrates it with…" His words trailed off under the dark knight's withering glare.

"Singing carols and share spicy hot teas?"!" She hopped pointing at the officer, "And exchanging presents?"

"And waving flags with the imperial insignia until our arms ached," Ru grinned at her contagious enthusiasm, "My mother makes the best Stohl fruit bread…" his words trailed off squelched by Lord Ren's increasing swell of rage.

The Lieutenant Commander dropped his head.

"We are at war," Kylo seethed menacingly, "We have no time for holidays."

"Oh don't be a Curmudgeon," the princess chastised playfully, "We will make time for celebrations…and eat… and dance… and sing songs."

Lor Ren grumped. "I'm not singing."

"Father wasn't one for singing carols either," Apple tittered, largely ignoring the increasing malignancy billowing off her nephew.

She chattered on, circling back towards the dark knight. "But he sure loved to hear me sing the folk songs," she said then glanced at Ru, "Remember ' _Glory to the Empire_ ' and there was of course father's personal favorite, ' _Stomp Ye Ol'Jedi_.'"

"' _Stomp Ye Ol' Jedi'_?" Kylo repeated less venomous—either a little assuaged or distracted by the tangent.

"Well," she tackled an undone ribbon on her sleeve, "It was later called 'Rebel Got Ran Over By a Speeder' since The Imperial Public Relations Department felt that ' _Stomp Ye Ol' Jedi_ ' was unnecessary after Order 66 was fulfilled. So they promoted ' _Rebel Got Ran Over By a Speeder,_ ' claiming it had a more festive ring to it."

Resolder nearly choked. "A more festive ring?" He flit his eyes to Kylo, whom just shrugged rather than answer with his usual glare.

"I did like the Rebel version much better," Apple touched her lips in thought.

Ru laughed despite himself. "Yes! It was hilarious!" He grinned pointing at Apple reminiscing happily and sang— which Apple gleefully joined in with him— "Rebel got ran over by a speeder… walking home from bombing a Nursery."

Kylo snickered. " _That_ is considered a family…festive holiday song?"

The others blinked at him and exchanged a bewildered look. Actually, Resolder didn't. He just lifted his hands, and retreated a few steps with an expression saying that he was most certainly staying out of that discussion.

"Yes," Apple answered happily, "it topped the charts for six years running."

"And it was sung by families?" Lord Ren attempted to clarify. "With younglings singing it?"

"Of course," Apple gave him a funny look, "whom else would sing it?"

"A song about a Rebel blowing up nurseries then getting ran over by a speeder?" Kylo asked in disbelief.

"Well," Apple considered his concerns, "the part about the rebel blowing up trees could be seen as a little off-putting."

"Trees?" The dark knight asked incredulous then shook his head, "Apple, that's not the type of nursery that song meant."

She laughed, "Surely Kylo, the song couldn't possibly mean children's nurseries."

"Yes, Apple," the dark knight tipped his chin down at her, eyebrows raised, "it did. It meant the rebel blew up children."

"That is why it was a 'rebel,'" Ru said, trying to mitigate the situation.

A fierce look from Kylo silenced him in a heartbeat. "There is a line between family festivities and killing one's enemies."

All three sets of eyes focused on him… Astonishment was an understatement. The dark lord had a moral line?

Apple maneuvered around him to feel his forehead. "Sweetie are you feeling alright?" A slight teasing smirk flickered on her mouth.

He pushed her hand away. "Are you telling me that young children sang holiday songs about murder?"

"Oh that's nothing," she waved her hand down, chuckling, "You should've seen the math problems for early graders." She quoted an equation sage-like, "If the population has 1.2 billion and there are 352 filthy rebels. How long would it take for their supporters to give them up if five percent of the population were interrogated with extreme prejudice per hour?"

"I remember equations like that," Ru mused, "I think I was six when a teacher posed a question that gave me nightmares: How long would it take to execute 122 rebels given 15 stormtroopers with firing speed of one laser per parsec?"

Apple nodded, "But that was a trick question. Everyone knows Stormtroopers are terrible at firing squads—Those helmets' visors are dreadful."

Rubbing his temples aggressively, Lord Ren howled, drawing their silent attention.

He sliced both hands in a box shape on one side then to the other. "Younglings are younglings! War is war." Hatefully, he slashed his hands in an X gesture. "They should not be mixed."

The princess's expression softened, "Ahhh.. my nephew likes children. He's going to make the most wonderful father."

Lord Ren's face reddened. And if, Ru didn't know better, he would have sworn that the dark knight was acting like a completely different person than the man that walked in the door.

But that difference was short-lived. The cold demeanor returned and his eyes darkened.

Not phased by the savage shadow crossing her nephew's face, Apple tittered, clapping her hands together. "So who is ready to celebrate Giving Days?"

Three pairs of eyes just stared at her. Granted, one pair was hatefully irate. One pair was confused. And one pair was widened in panic.

"Today…" she tried to encourage their involvement in her excitement, circling her hands one over another. "On the _Insurrection_ … with all the crew… we party. Lots of cake and presents."

"But your highness," Ru gasped, "The First Order has forbidden holidays—It's a mandate by the Supreme Leader."

"Then we will say it is a celebration of the Accord. Or use my birthday as an excuse," Apple turned to her nephew with a blissful smile. "What do you think? Are you in?"

Kylo folded his arms, glowering. "We are at… war!" He enunciated slowly, volume increasing with each word.

A somberness tempered his fury a smidgeon, "And you have an audience with the Supreme Leader."

"So… we'll celebrate before the appointment and… after it." Apple met his argument with a completely unhindered childlike manner. "And tomorrow. And the next day. You do realize that Giving Days are a week."

His nostrils flared and he straightened himself slowly. "Do you even comprehend the depth of military rules? Or war?!"

Items around the room jittered as he glared.

Both Resolder and Ru gave the man serious ground.

"Ooo, you are so grouchy today." The princess pouted and fiddled with the edge of his tunic, hardly phase by the vases trembling on a display behind her, "And to think I was hoping to throw a party to give you some reprieve?"

His expression softened slightly. "It's out of the question."

Yet, Apple wasn't interested in taking no for an answer. She stomped and whined like a spoilt child. "But I want to celebrate Giving Days with everyone!"

Rolling his eyes, Kylo groaned exasperated. Yet any amount of anger shooting off him, melted. "Why do you care?"

"Because I do," she countered frustrated. "Everyone has been working so hard lately. And I want to show the crew how much we care…"

"We?" He repeated.

Petulant, Apple laughed obviously giving up on her attempt to feign irritation and tugged playfully harder on his uniform's edges. "Yes we!"

She glanced at Ru determined, "Everything has all been already arranged. Commander Rokens and Ru 2 have taken care of everything."

The lieutenant commander gasped horrified. "My brother is involved?"

"He's quite the resourceful one in a pinch," she winked.

"Or should you say with the black market," Resolder piped up blithely, but the threatening stare the dark knight gave him caused the nobleman to nonchalantly 'explore' further into the interior of the room… intentionally far away from Lord Ren.

Kylo slowly turned his attention from him to Ru, a malevolent shadow crossing his face, "The Black Market?"

The lieutenant commander withered under his stare, then in turn, transferred his frustration to Resolder—someone he could vent his anger at without getting murdered. "You knew?"

The teenager glanced up from behind a display of crystal musical instruments. "We had to run some of our transport lines."

He plucked a lyre's string, producing a deep guttural note from the instrument. "But when the Shakal asks for something, we make it so. If she wants several hundred crates of sugar and tea, a _wel'cisqu_ of red and black linens, a thousand pulp streamers, 52,348 various wrapped presents, and a million kuh'ers of flour to make cakes with, we don't question her. Nor do we report our orders to her," his expression hardened uncharacteristically for someone his age, "subordinates."

"Resolder," Apple reprimanded, "Ru 1 is my friend." Then her lashes fluttered rapidly in admittance, "He's only Lord Ren's and General Hux's subordinate."

The nobleman's stern stare was politically replaced by a dashing white-toothed smile. "I stand corrected, your highness."

Kylo covered his face with a gloved hand. "Apple," he groaned, catching their attention, "How much has your foolhardy escapade cost the First Order?"

"Not a single credit," she brushed lint from his sleeve. "I have my own means…"

She stood up on her tip-toes to whisper in Kylo's ear, "It seems that daddy made some very profitable but secret investments in my name. And I am set for life… and then some."

Strolling away from him, she grinned widely, "And this mama," she threw an arm around Resolder's and Ru's shoulder, pulling the tall men down to her height, "is in a spending mood."

The dark knight glowered.

"I bought you a bunch of presents," she tempted him.

Lord Ren regarded her with a mixture of surprise and irritation for a long beat. Finally, he grumbled, "You're unbelievable."

Apple clapped her hands excitedly then threw her arms around her nephew. "Oh how I adore you. I can't wait until you see what I bought you!"

He groused, "I am resilient to bribery."

"Everything is already set," the princess straightened his uniform then patted his arms, "so you can't deny me my fun. And you… my handsome sith are just going to have to enjoy the party whether you like it or not." She grinned triumphantly.

Ru shook his head, chuckling. "The general may have something to say about this celebratory take over of his ship, your highness."

Her smile wavered, "Bless Armitage's poor soul. I imagine so… being trapped in the infirmary. He'll be left out of the majority of the festivities. And to think I hadn't foreseen his… uh…" flicked her eyes to Kylo's face then back at Ru, "afflictions happening about this time."

Lord Ren gave her his back, increasingly expressing emotional turmoil. "Why are you always concerned about that _Lurdo?_ "

"Was that E _wokese_?" The princess laughed then quickly sobered when he snapped his eyes to her.

"Fine," she rescinded with a petulant groan, "I won't tease you about your vocabulary," but she couldn't resist a lop-sided smile, "even if it includes words from tiny savage furballs."

The Dark knight gave her an exasperated sidelong glance. "Why are we even here, Apple? I do not have time to…" his contempt curled his upper lip, "plan parties."

"Oh, Kylo. I told you it's already planned," she weaved through the displays easily as if she wasn't blind. "We're here for…"

Stopping Apple scanned around herself. She touched her fingers to her lips then delicately asked, "Ru, do you know where the…" quick glance at her nephew, "uh… things I asked to … you know… be 'marked with ribbons' went?"

"Ribbons?" Kylo sneered.

"This way," understanding her subtle clue, Ru placed his hand on the princess's mid-back to guide her towards the display of lightsabers. Various colored ribbons wrapped in bows around their hilts.

"You put the red ribbon on the…" she whispered to Ru, "… you know which one."

"As you commanded," he nodded, taking her hand to place it near the display. His gloved fingers tingled touching her knuckles. Innocence and compassion billowed off her skin.

"Ru. You should know by now: I don't command—I entreat," Apple spoke out the side of her mouth then her face brightened.

"Ooo! There it is," she squatted down between the display stands, "Who's a good gift," she cooed at the inanimate object. "Come here." The red ribbon-wrapped saber flew into her palm.

Curling her other arm over the weapon, Apple held it against her chest as if cradling a precious heirloom. She discreetly hid the lightsaber in her lace sleeves, while glancing back at Kylo as if to see if he was watching.

She lifted her communicator to her lips, "Ru 2."

"Yes, your highness," Aster's voice erupted over the line accompanied by sparking sounds and metal clanging.

"Is everything set for Operation Happy Crew?" She asked him.

"Largely," his audio-filtered voice replied, clanking noises erupted in the background. "The General assigned me a project that I'm currently working on, but just say the word."

"Initiate the sequence," she grinned.

"Wait one…" Jumbled sounds and beeping popped over the line, "Operation Happy Crew is… on."


	53. Chapter 53

Holiday music erupted ship wide over the PA system, startling several unsuspecting First Order crew members and exciting the Hapes nationals into cheers. Streamers popped out of metal boxes across the ship, spraying confetti and colored stripes of pulp paper. First Order banners dropped down the walls. Streamers rolled down the edges of entryways.

And a hoard of beautiful Hapes servants stampeded throughout the _Insurrection_ , bearing wrapped packages. Confections and cakes were brought in on ornate trays and placed in lounge areas. Corks were popped on bottles as stemmed glasses were shoved into First Order officers' hands and drinks were poured for them before they could realize what was happening.

Throughout the _Insurrection_ , presents were placed on consoles near officers, given to stormtroopers, snuck into engineer's kits, and tossed to pilots. Small ribbon wrapped gifts appeared everywhere. Including the infirmary…

Except the medical wing was—in terms of the intensive care units—spared the wholesale decorations and rowdy festivities. And the music was subdued there to a gentle hum to maintain the quiet peace needed for patients.

Unaware of the holiday-take-over of his ship, General Hux struggled to don his uniform. It was an excruciating process. Painful and blocked by External fixators, he had an uphill battle. Yet, he was stubborn. Real stubborn.

Fortunately, the Lady Roan had long since vacated his IC unit. And the silence and privacy helped augment his persistence. He was breathing better and the chest pain was manageable. Still, he hardly less than half his normal range of motion. So he was grateful her absence allowed him to embarrassingly fumble and strain with his uniform on his own.

Determined to some semblance of propriety, he gritted through the pain to slash his left pant leg and right sleeve in order to put the confounded uniform on. He would be shot out an air-lock before he'd run around the ship without a proper uniform.

Hux jerked it over his broken leg in agonizing tugs. The fabric protested. He grit his teeth, nearly ripping it snagging it with his right arm's external fixators. At least the shirt was less of a hassle than the pants were.

After considerable effort, the general finally managed to pull on his uniform by the time an ensign—judging on his insignia… too young and too new to be known personally to the general—bounded into the intensive care unit bearing a small gift.

"General, sir," the freckled kid thrust the red and gold ribboned package towards his face, "This is for you."

Eyeballing the bow bobbing on the little box warily, Hux achingly pulled his outer jacket over his shoulders, slipping the left arm in its sleeve. "What is it?"

"It's a present from the princess," the officer whom delivered it beamed as if the present made him proud.

"From the princess?" Hux felt astonished. "Why?"

He racked his brain for some triumph or achievement he had done warranting reward. But he came up with nothing.

"Happy Giving Days," the baby-faced officer answered, his grin puffing up his chest as he handed the package to him.

Hux shifted his torso painfully for a more comfortable position, almost shrugging off his jacket in the process. Examining the small ribboned package, he rotated it in his hand. "Giving Days?"

"The imperial holiday," the ensign blubbered, smile wavering with concern. "where the imperial ancient one brings good children gifts and the Quramest'il punishes disloyal children with electro-whips. Surely you know of it."

"I know the holiday!" Hux snapped.

Rebuffed, the ensign blinked for a long moment then whimpered. "Of course, sir."

The general closed his eyes, slightly regretful for taking his bitterness out on the younger man.

The ensign couldn't possibly have elucidated that Hux's father negated all holidays and family togetherness as worthless wastes of time… even the imperial festivals. No galas. No vacations. No jubilee. No giving gifts outside of liquor. The Grand Admiral despised holidays and made sure his son understood that fact well.

But at the academy, Hux did witness other cadets from imperial families celebrate with their parents and siblings. Waving banners and opening presents, laughing over sugar-encrusted sour balls that made their mouths pucker, and chasing each other around wearing horned fur masks with fake electro-sticks and blurting, "You are punished!" Then they would too out on week-long family outings.

Hux, on the other hand, never left the academy. Never left—unless there was a specified and pre-scheduled field trip. And the Grand Admiral made a concerted effort to prevent him from celebrating any holiday. Celebrations produced weaknesses.

So, the only other knowledge he had of Giving Days was from researching it on the data network. As a child, he discovered within the data stream images of shrubs decorated with glowing orbs and ribbons, sugary ornate confections with sour centers, spice cakes staked until they nearly toppled over, and the ancient Imperial himself—an old giving bearded man offering children presents followed by the vicious horned wookie-like beast whom punished the children not loyal to the empire with whips and electro-sticks. And of course, if that wasn't sanguine enough. The data network was saturated with images of smiling families—taking holograms together wearing matching imperial insignia pajamas and unwrapping presents. Hux despised that holiday. Utterly despised it.

At least he did… until that moment.

Hux clutched his very first Giving Days present in his palm and inhaled the flowery scent wafting off of it. The princess's perfume. And it was wrapped slightly askew with the pulp paper lumpy around the edges. Far from perfect. A child could have achieved a more aesthetic appearance than it had. The princess must have wrapped it personally.

He breathed in her fragrance… Again the familiar scent of candy and flowers. His first real Giving Days present. And it was from the imperial princess. The granddaughter of the Great Emperor thought of him.

The round cheeked officer stared at Hux with excitement widened eyes. "Are you going to open it, sir?"

Hux hesitated. "Now?"

Compassion fluttered across the ensign's features. "Here, I'll help you." Mistaking his hesitation for an inability to opening the present due to his injuries.

That warranted a severe glare.

The ensign retracted his hands, "Sorry sir." He saluted him, instinctively. "Honor to the Supreme Leader."

Hux rolled his eyes.

The First Order ranks were filled with thousands of exceptionally young officers. Raised on the tenets of the First Order, the Supreme Leader preferred them to seasoned imperials. They were wholly loyal to Snoke and entirely indoctrinated, more so than even he was.

"Dismissed," Hux told him.

Disappointedly eyeing the closed present, the ensign lowered his salute, "Yes, sir" and then obediently scuttled out of there.

After an awkward bungling with the wrapping, Hux braced the present in his right armpit and tore the paper off it with his left hand. Laying the gift on his lap, he pushed the remnants of the paper aside to reveal a small box. It opened in response to his thumb brushing its sensor.

A small hologram of the princess poured up out of it.

"Armitage, I deeply wish you the happiest Giving Days. I know this isn't much of a present," she said, "so I want you to know that you have a newly purchased gift hidden in your office. But this present is sentimental…"

A self-conscious expression crossed her face as she wrung her fingers, "Or at least I consider it sentimental."

Hux's expression softened.

"I may not know you well enough as I would like yet, but I do know you appreciate history as much as Mitth'raw—" she corrected herself, pushing a lock behind her ear "—Grand Admiral Thrawn did artwork. And perhaps this isn't the perfect gift, but it's a historical archive…a historical archive on a small pocket drive."

She pushed her hair further behind her ear bashful, "Some files on it might be a tad distorted, but Ru Two was able to salvage the majority of them. It is a compilation of all the military proceedings of the greatest Admirals within the empire, including Thrawn, and their strategies."

The general sucked in an intake of breath.

"And some of the files are extensive personal logs dictated by these men that you might find entertaining." The hologram's smile turned apologetic. "Maybe you might consider this a dumb gift."

"Never!" He blurted at the recording.

"But I just thought you might find it interesting…" She said, "I wanted you to realize that you have a lot in common with the greatest imperial military minds. And how, you can change the universe for the better."

A happy and heartfelt expression softened her delicate features. "If anyone can lead the First Order to greatness it is you. Even if it doesn't mean much: I believe in you and I just hope that maybe someday… you can believe in yourself."

He felt a smile tug at his lips.

"…And know that you are a most valued friend," she said.

His smile disappeared in an instant. "Friend?" She designated him as 'friend.'

Hux coughed. A practical sucker punch to his chest.

With that the hologram dissipated.

"That's it?" he complained and shook the hologram imager. "You can't end with friend!" He shook it harder. "Anything but friend!"

The imager hissed and whined in complaint. A puff of smoke erupted from it, signaling its death.

The young general dropped his head, repeating pathetically, "Friend? Why did she have to say. 'friend?'"

Pushing the defeated thoughts aside, Hux gathered himself in a new surge of optimism. "Friendship can evolve into love." His determination rose. "Marriages have started on less."

Hux extracted the small archive—a black cylinder drive. It was an antique in itself.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rolled the drive in his fingers. Despite his militant reserve, his eyes welled a little moisture. He wasn't one for emotions… but his eyes glistened and deepened in color, the more he mulled over what the princess had done. It stirred his heart. And if he had loved her before, at that moment… his affections for her increased exponentially. Yes, friendship would most certainly blossom into a deep and lasting love.

Hux brushed the drive against his lips, dragging its metallic surface down his bottom lip. The princess had touched the device—her fingers had held it. Curling the drive into his fist, he closed his eyes and held it against his forehead. Then kissed it and kissed it indulgently as if it were her fingers or her lips.

"Do you need some time alone?" A female snide voice snickered.

Hux's eyes popped open in horror to see Lady Roan smirking down at him.

Dressed in a fresh uniform, the noblewoman sauntered towards him. The newly liberated guns on her hips swaying as she walked in that sensuous criss-crossing manner that invited his eyes to follow the length of her legs. "Most men prefer the company of a woman," she scoffed, "But if you like cold metal items, who am I to judge."

He scowled, slipping the drive into his jacket's pocket. "How charming. And these are the inner workings of your mind?"

"I call it as I see it." She plopped down on the seat next to him with the grace of a rough wookie. She whipped out a flask from her jacket and threw a swig back.

He tracked the bottle yearningly.

She wiped her lips with the back of her wrist. "So when are you breaking out of here?"

He narrowed his eyes, not sure how to reply. First, he needed to assess the woman's angle. "What concern is it of yours?"

"Just asking," she threw another gulp of hooch back, "Because you are missing out."

"Are you drunk?" He watched her sway a little with disgust… or perhaps, it was envy.

"Not nearly enough to find you attractive."

"Aren't you supposed to be attending the princess?" He scowled.

"She ditched us for that…" she tipped her flask over to shake it.

Nothing dripped out. She tossed it over her shoulder and slipped out another flask—from the Emperor only knows where— and gulped the whiskey down.

She gasped making a face at the acridness of the liquor and finished, "…hot sith."

Hux's eyebrows shot to his auburn hairline and he coughed to his regret when she resorted to a string of Hapan… describing the sordid conversation her sisters were having over the dark lord a few… he wasn't sure if it the translation meant 'teaching' or 'learning.'

"Pardon?" He asked, not exactly sure if he heard her correctly.

"Did you know there is a party outside?" She changed the subject, waving her flask at him. "Epic," she enunciated the consonants strongly as if saying, 'epppiccc."

Hux froze. "Party?"

"Presents everywhere. The princess bought them all." She threw another one back, "And the booze…" Roan grinned, laughing, "Not too bad, but we brought that ourselves." She swayed slightly and threw her arm over the back of her chair. "Brought you a few cases of my family's best production. You will know that I can acquire the best wine in the Hapes Consortium. Smuggled that shizzle easily aboard in the crates of flour. No one suspected a thing."

The general felt the color in his face fluctuate between pallor and a furious red. "Is that so?"


	54. Chapter 54

From the inventory room, Apple waited for the celebratory noises to erupt and the graffiti to spray the air, before she began to pull the ribboned lightsaber from her allowing sleeve.

"Kylo," she turned around to show him the weapon beyond ecstatic. "Happy Giving Days!"

His jaw gaped like someone dumb struck. "Where…?"

Lightsabers were very difficult to come by—In fact, they and their kyber crystals were rare. So rare that none of the other Knights of Ren had one. save Kylo and his was…

"I know the kyber crystal is cracked in your saber," Apple held it out to him in both palms. "So I want you to have this…" Her smile wavered self-consciously. "I know it's not brand new," quickly adding, "I have other new presents for you, but this is sentimental—"  
Kylo choked, obviously touched. He ogled it like a new TIE fighter. "It's a single-chambered lightsaber…"

"And it's not just any single-chambered lightsaber," her eyes glistened with tears, "It was father's first synth-crystal saber… And in his own novel design."

Kylo froze, struck. "Darth Vader's?"

She bobbed it towards him with a hopeful smile. "Go on take it. Happy Giving Days."

Kylo's hand trembled as he reached for the weapon. "Darth Vader's lightsaber," he repeated to himself and carefully plucked it from her palms to ignite it.

The weapon was a black hilted lightsaber with a ridged handgrip, dark red blade, and a beveled emitter shroud. Better was—It's blade was crisp. A thick, red and unwavering beam… entirely without a single flicker. It was practically flawless as the day it was created. A truly ominous weapon. And death wafted off it in a tidal wave. That weapon had seen its wars… and it had easily slaughtered hundreds.

The Knight of Ren made arching slashes with it through the air, its mechanical humming crackling at the end of each strike. He moved to the open center of the room to utilize it fully, pleased smile widening with each easily mastered technique.

Not a thank you to the princess. Not a word. Instead the knight remained solely preoccupied with the weapon in the fervor of a child with a brand new toy. The others became apparently invisible to him as he focused all his attention on examining the superb quality of the lightsaber… completely absorbed in interacting with it.

The dark knight popped the hilt in his hand, checking the grip before making a few more slashes then finally looked up at his aunt, "It's lighter weight then my own… but the design is thicker…"

"He had to make it bulkier because…" the princess told her nephew as he played with the saber.

Her voice wavered with emotion, "…you see, father had large mechanical hands— so he was forced to make the grip thicker and longer than his original saber. It bothered him actually that he had to design it that way—and often complained that it was inelegant to the point of being ungainly. But I always thought it was pretty."

"I didn't know it was even here," Kylo examined it sentimentally touched.

After a moment, he slowly turned deadly eyes on Ru causing the officer to give ground in panic. "Why didn't you inform me that my grandfather's lightsaber was here?"

Ru swallowed a massive lump of pale fear. "I tried, but you…" he choked again under the pressure of the hate wafting off the knight. "…you disregarded my…" he trailed off backing further away as the angry man stalked towards him, lightsaber still lit.

"Kylo," the princess sighed, "Did you want Ru to ruin my surprise for you? Shame on you! Snooping is a Jedi trait."

The dark lord stopped stock still as if in debate with himself, then shut the lightsaber off. His eyes focused behind her at the half-hidden display. "Are there more lightsabers?"

Her lips broke into a mischievous grin, "I made provisions."

The men focused on her.

"Provisions for what?" Kylo asked.

Her grin widened. "For you to achieve your grandfather's goal."


	55. Chapter 55

Apple plucked a half-circular-shaped lightsaber from the display beside her. "This is a double-bladed spinning lightsaber, the model used by the Inquisitorius class of imperial investigators. They were career jedi hunters."

That drew Kylo's attention from his grandfather's lightsaber. He attached the lightsaber to his belt next to his original one then squinted his eyes at the Inquisitor class weapon. Instead of the traditional straight hilt, it featured a ringed emitter attached to the cylindrical handgrip.

The princess had it laid across her palms for better visualization. "If applied correctly, these sabers can be used to fly."

"I have only heard of those sabers, but have never beheld one even on data streams," Kylo weaved through a few display cases to closely peer at it over her shoulder. "They were said to have disappeared from history prior to 5ABY."

Resolder folded his arms. "He's right. Those weapons were taken off the battle field a few years before the empire was overthrown. Their only advantage was discovered to be their weakness, and they were recalled as a result. Some Inquisitors still kept their sabers, but the majority of them were destroyed lest a rogue Jedi take advantage of their defect."

Both Kylo and Lieutenant Commander Ru snapped their astonishment to him.

Uncomfortable under their stares, the Hapes nobleman dropped his folded arms and shifted his weight. "It's not like I haven't studied Force weapons too."

Increasingly unnerved by their continued staring, he ticked the back of his fingers at the circular saber, "Even we Hapes Consortium nationals know about the Inquisitorious stories and their spinning blades. Do you think we wouldn't pass the secret on how to defend against them?"

Apple nodded. "I suppose that's my fault—I told Fuo'stil the secret years ago because the Grand Inquisitor Deuce had chose to target his brother. Little did I know that the threat more came from the prince's own mother than Prince Xizor and the newly appointed grand Inquisitor."

That drew the men's attention from the Hapes noble… to his relief.

"It's a simple trick really," Apple continued, pointing at the weapon's emitters. "The design of these was made so that the ringed emitter could detach from the grip, allowing the twin-blades rotate rapidly. But one well-placed strike from your opponent's lightsaber could sever the hilt from the emitter itself and cut the entire thing in half…." she pointed to the central line, "right here. My father taught me the defense technique when he retrieved me from the Kathol Rim."

She chuckled at the memory, "Most parents teach their younglings how to tie their shoes or how to drive their first speeder. My father's first lesson was how to protect myself from the Inquisitors."

"So you were trained," Kylo stepped closer, towering over her enlivened.

She tilted her head back to look way up at him, the ornate flowers in her braids titling back against his chest. "I told you, I am not without defenses."

"Then we can continue your training," the dark knight's expression lit up as he put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "We could be powerful together."

"No thanks," Apple turned him down flatly.

Lord Ren jerked his head back as if slapped and released her shoulders.

"That's man work," she explained reducing the sting of his felt rebuff, "I don't want to smell like feet and armpit."

He remained stiff and icily silent then after a tense pause, he inconspicuously sniffed his armpit. Rolling his eyes, he scowled."We don't smell like armpit."

"You do when you practice," she told him then headed for Resolder, offering him the Jedi hunter model. "I want you to have this one. It's a slightly modified design so that the weakness has been lessened provided you are aware of it. This saber holds a special importance to me, since it used to belong to a friend of mine."

The young noble held up his hands and backed away, "No thank you, Shakal. I'm well enough without one…"

"Resolder," she pouted sternly… as if someone pouting could be stern, "you will need this in the future. When I asked father for it to be included in my shuttle, I had a vision of you in my mind… and that was before I was placed in carbonite."

His dark eyes widened, olive skinned features paling. "I promised my father that I would never wield one of those."

"Your father was an Inquisitor, wasn't he?"

"Yes" Resolder admitted, dropping his head, "He defected to the Consortium when he couldn't kill my grandmother. He was sent on the assignment before the Empire fell…"

"Your father was a dark side Force Adept?" Lord Ren asked riveted.

Resolder nodded, appearing anything but proud of it. "He was sent to kill my grandmother when he met my mother. She challenged him to protect grandmother, and the two of them fell in love mid-battle. As for the rest…? I am the last living member of my family, save for your royal aunt, and Fuo'stil."

"Both your parents were Force Adepts?" Lord Ren asked, then threw up his hands when the younger boy nodded. "Am I the only one here with but one Force parent?"

With a sheepish smile, Lieutenant Commander Ru held up his hand, "My father doesn't have the Force either."

Kylo snarked, far from satisfied. "Shut up!"

The princess waved the tense tangent off and offered Resolder the weapon again. "This belongs to you. It came from a friend of mine… Ju'lon."

"Ju'lon Wey'lis?" Resolder stammered.

"Yes."

"That's my father."

"Well now… that explains a lot," she grinned, pushing the lightsaber more towards him. "Then this really was meant for you—Resolder, there are no coincidences in life. This saber wanted to be with you and it has found you."

"It can't be his," Resolder refused to take the weapon. "He buried his lightsaber when he defected."

"No, this one is his," she informed him matter-of-factly, "the one he had was his partner Ludwik's."

She lowered the lightsaber with a sad sigh, "Your father and I weren't completely close because he had his work and I wanted to set him up with one of my handmaids which he was having none of that… I just couldn't get him to like her no matter how hard I tried. Now it makes since, he always spoke of a beautiful dark haired woman that he would marry."

A knowing smile tempted her lips as she flicked her eyes to the nobleman's dark hair, "But Ju'lon came to me the week after a female jedi killed Ludwik… it was during a battle at a sith temple raid. And the woman whom killed him manage to escape."

A sadness entered her eyes. "Losing Ludwik really affected him. So Ju'lon left this saber with me, vowing that he would kill the rogue Jedi with Ludwik's very own saber. But that was the last I saw of him before I was placed in carbonite. He was a good friend… overtly loyal and committed to justice. It makes me happy that he was your father," she beamed at him happily, "we were definitely meant to meet."

She pushed her face practically in his to examine his features. "Hmmm! Yet you don't look a thing like him… He was light brown haired, pale-skinned, green eyed and had a pert pug nose."

Resolder chuckled, drawn into the shared reverie, "He did not manage to win my mother's affections by his looks. The two of them, mid-battle, fell into a subterranean cave when the ground beneath them collapsed. They were trapped together for days. When they were finally discovered, my mother was pregnant with my first sister and my father had a new name. The rest is just history… After their sixth child together—me—he buried his lightsaber."

His happy smile, slowly died killed by the sadness in his dark eyes. "But now they are all gone and I alone remain."

Lord Ren yawned bored. "Touching." He sneered, "That story was so saccharin I didn't know whether to fall asleep or throw up in my mouth."

"Kylo!" Apple smacked his arm with a gasping chuckle. "Don't be a Stinkweed."

"Stinkweed?" Lord Ren's dark eyebrows shot to his hairline with a laugh, "That's the extent of your insult?"

"You do realize that the rest of the crew are out there partying while you are in here chastising my lack of sass talk?" She told him.

"Sass talk is important in a healthy female."

"Then maybe I should hail Captain Phasma to continue this conversation with you," she harrumphed, folding her arms and giving him her back indignant.

"I said a healthy female, not a tromping beast."

"Want me to hail Blaze?"

Resolder stiffened at the mention of the hand-maiden's name, but no one was looking at him at that moment.

"Healthy," Kylo enunciated, "not mentally off."

Apple burst out laughing despite herself. "Oooo! You're impossible."

She waved him off. "Just let me give Resolder and Ru their gifts before we miss the entire party."

Kylo folded his arms, "You have an audience with the Supreme Leader soon."

She groaned, "Why do you always have to bring up something that spoils my fun?"

"Life isn't fun, Apple," he opened his position to stand over her, "it's death and power."

"Death?" She teased, "Isn't that the antithesis of life?"

"Not in my universe," Kylo replied, enlivened rather than exasperated by their small debate, "It instead is the absolute norm."

"For your enemies," she shrugged then went on prattling, "that's expected."

Dismissing his argument in a matter of seconds, she turned a politically beautiful smile on Resolder and Ru. "Apparently, I have an appointment that my nephew made for me… without even telling me… or without asking me if I was ready to meet with the Supreme Leader… But alas, duty calls," she dramatically put the back of her hand across her forehead and peered at her nephew from the corner of her eye.

He smirked amused, "Apple… no one is buying that."

She dropped her had and laughed, pretending to sigh, "Unfortunately, I will not be able to stay to witness you select your sabers and," she shifted her eyes to the side towards Lord Ren with a devious smile, "Kyber crystals—but of course, you'll have first pick and my darling nephew will have to wait until afterwards to acquire his—"

"Kyber crystals?!" Kylo swung his torso completely towards her.

"Yes," she folded her hands properly under her voluminous sleeves, "Kyber crystals. Complete… Uncracked…. Untouched…. Perfect Kyber crystals." She paced a few steps through the displays towards a vase to run her fingers nonchalantly along its flowered surface. "But then again, we have to prepare to meet the Supreme Leader. And to think I wanted you to have first pick…" Big, huge, dramatic sigh.

The dark knight struggled with himself, biting on the knuckle of one fist. He burst, "Alright! But if we're late, it's your funeral."

With a softly triumphant expression, Apple put aside Resolder's saber close to him and opened her hand to the lieutenant commander, "Ru, the box."

He quickly retrieved it for her, opening it's lid with a bow.

The princess took it from him to press back the lavender linen encompassing the crystals and turned to her nephew. "Pick one."

"Just one?" He smirked wickedly.

"You touch more than one and I will call father's ghost to smack you silly," she said, lips twisting into a petulant grin, "And if you make the crystal cry or bleed then, I'll smack you silly."

He grinned at her, gloved fingers hovering over the box, "I might just to see that."

She snatched the box back from him, protectively, "Don't even think about it. You just be a good sith and pick the single crystal that hums to you."

Apple offered it to him again. "Close your eyes and concentrate. And please try not to touch the others… They might get fussy and shock you."

"It's like Operation Kill the Rebel," Ru watched the dark knight twitch his fingers over the crystals.

"Oh I remember that game," Apple grinned, "You have to carefully pluck parts of the rebel out without touching the edges of the game or it buzzes."

Kylo snapped, "Shut up or I'll kill you both."

The lieutenant commander paled, while the princess just laughed, hardly phased.

Within a few parsecs, a single clear crystal the size of a human man's thumb vibrated. "I hear it humming." Surprise flitted across Kylo's face.

"I don't hear anything," Resolder moved closer to peer in the box.

"That's because only he can hear the call of his own crystal," Apple explained as Kylo plucked the crystal from the box to examine it in awe.

"Hah! That's the one I knew you'd pick," she told him. "Am I good or am I good?"

"It's still singing," Kylo commented.

"Remove your glove and hold it in your right hand—Right hands have a stronger connection with the crystals," she instructed, "But—and I seriously mean 'but' here—don't force the crystal to change its color. Just let it choose on its own. Let it do it itself."

"It must turn red," the dark knight said as he pulled off his right glove. "There is no other color."

"Red is for synth-crystals…" she explained as he encompassed the small crystal in his late palm, "or crystals that bleed. And those are worthless. They're just lightsabers power sources and nothing more. Doing that to kybers makes them lose their true powers."

"They have more powers than being lightsaber cores?" Resolder asked then burst excited, "So it is true that they enhance the Force!"

"And much more than that," Apple answered then told her nephew, "Now Kylo, blank out your mind. Just flow with the Force, and let the universe choose your path for you. The color will say something of your personality and what your are meant to become. It represents your past, your present, and your future."

"Watch it turn black like his heart," Resolder whispered out the side of his mouth to the lieutenant commander.

That warranted him a malignant look from the dark lord.

"Go on now," Apple urged her nephew, "I can't wait to see your color."

Lord Ren held his fist to his forehead and closed his eyes. A flash of light erupted from the cracks between his fingers. Anxious to see what the kyber chose, he opened his palm.

Four heads bent over the crystal. A beautiful pink crystal glistened on his palm.

"It's pink," Ru commented flatly.

"A very pretty pink!" Apple clapped happy. "So pretty!"

The other men lifted their eyes to Lord Ren whom turned a dark shade of scarlet. A considerable effort was made to keep straight faces on their parts.

"It's pink." They tried not to laugh. It would have been deadly to laugh at that moment.

Rage crossed Kylo's face, "What is this mockery?!" He went to chuck the crystal.

"Don't!" Apple snatched his wrist, bringing it down to her heart. "The universe chose this color for a reason." She turned to the officer, "Ru."

On command, the lieutenant commander whipped out his data pad, and reviewed it, "Here it is. Pink: A combination of dark and light…"

Elbowing Kylo's midsection, the princess whispered, "See that is so you."

He spun on his heel to leave, but she caught him. "Oh no you don't. There's more."

"The quality of energy in Pink Kyber crystals is determined by how much red is present," Ru read, sparking four pairs of eyes to re-examine the crystal.

"I'd say that is a pale pink," Resolder rubbed his chin, "a rose color? A tinge of red."

"No, it looks moderately red," Ru countered, "Half-red, half-white. It could be considered a light red in some lights.

"I concur," Apple agreed, "It is obviously half-red." She tapped the top of his data pad, "More reading."

Ru returned to his text. "White represents goodness and wholeness as well as the potential for fulness within the Force…The bearer of the Pink Kyber must not underestimate the white that lies within the stone and the possible relationship with a White Kyber crystal. See White Kybers?"

"Keep going," Apple encouraged.

"The red within the stone represents anger and splintering, or when combined with white, represents the potential to achieve wholeness within the balance of the Force. Pink combines those energies. Shades deep in pink such as magenta…"

"That is most certainly not a magenta," Resolder frowned, "It's a pastel color."

Apple widened her eyes at him to get him to be quiet as Ru continued to relay the listed description.

"…are effective in counterbalancing dark or light side energies, as well as neutralizing mental disorders and violence resultant from emotional or physical chaos."

Ru snuck an accusatory look at the increasingly angry dark knight then quickly glanced back at his data pad, "Pink is used to diffuse aggressive behavior at the same time enhance self-worth," he coughed, "It is used to protect against mental illness, shield against attacks such as Force Drain, Force Subjugate, Dampen Force, and Mind probe. It produces acceptance and contentment, and increases telekinetic abilities. These kybers also," he coughed again, "stimulate love and beauty, bringing to the bearer… true romantic love. Pink bearers work well with blues, reds, and blacks. Unless related to a Chosen One, then refer to White Kybers."

Kylo pushed the crystal at Apple, ready to abandon it like a man jumping head first out an air-lock. "Take it. It suits you better."

Shaking her head, she produced an imperial insignia jewel setting and plopped the crystal in it.

The setting sealed over the Kyber, encasing it to hum a perfectly balanced pink light. "No, Kylo," she placed the chain over his head, patting it once it settled around neck, "this is your kyber. It was meant for you… and it will keep you safe against techniques such as Force Drain or Force Dampen. Did you know that pink flowers on Coruscant mean, 'I will never forget you. You will always be remembered.'"

She smoothed his uniform and leaned her forehead against his chest, "Your grandfather will always be remembered in you."

Even though the knight was disappointed, his expression melted. When she turned from him, he tucked the crystal beneath his tunic hiding it from sight.

"Resolder," the princess instructed, "Pick one."

A few moments later, they were staring at a yellowish-green stone glistening in his palm.

"A Jedi color," Kylo sneered, taking a menacing step towards the younger man.

"Not necessarily," the princess pushed him gently away, "Colors have a variety of meanings. And the Jedi were fools, using their kyber crystals only as lightsaber power sources… thus negating the majority of their powers."

She flicked her eyes to the lieutenant commander, "Ru read the description."

"Green is the most restful color of the visible spectrum," he followed the text with his index finger, "It is favored by well-balanced people and is mistaken for a common stone, but in actuality is considered sacred. Green Kyber contain the powerful energies of nature, and the expanse. These appear in the hands of those that are on the brink of change and transformation, and thus sustain the ability to change. This color represents a new state of balance as well as the need to prove oneself. Green Kybers protect against fear and anxiety connected with the demands and disapproval of others. Green shields its bearer against Force attacks such as Force Strangle and Force Control. It strengthens the bearer's ability to perceive the future and understand the thoughts of others. Combine with an orange crystal bearer and the two will make an extremely powerful telepathic partnership. Green also works well with browns, yellows, and gray."

"Hmmm.. interesting." Apple postulated for a moment, pondering some secret knowledge, then finally said, "Ru, your turn."

After a good string of trembling under Kylo's hateful glaring and struggling to remove his glove, Ru managed to produce a glowing Indigo colored stone.

"Indigo," he read without preamble, "the color of mental focus and deep intuition. The color of psychometrics." His shoulders drooped. "Of course," he grumbled disappointed, "it would have to be related to that."

"Psychometry is a gift," the princess patted him on the shoulder, "You should come to realize how wonderful of a gift it actually can become. Now go on: Continue reading."

"While blue is the color of communication, Indigo crystals are the masters of self-realization and spiritual mastery. When blue turns outward in diplomatic transactions, indigo turns inward and creates instant understandings. It develops intuition and foresight moreso than any of the other colors. It symbolizes the bridge between the finite and the infinite, and can be a guide to achieve cosmic knowledge along the Force astroplane, increasing communication with Force Ghosts. Indigo is associated with spiritual intelligence, a mystical trait known among humans as the third eye, and also with psychic power. It protects against Force Attacks such as Force Manipulation, Force Fear, and Force Stun. At the same time, it increases psychometry and force intuition. If the user adheres to dark principles, with an indigo kyber, the user can initiate Force Slow on enemies. Indigo works well with greens, blues, grays, and violets."

"Interesting," she contemplated in that secretive knowing manner again then beamed, "My turn!"

She plucked one from the box. It hummed and vibrated wildly in her fingers and flashed a bright white light from the moment she touched it. But to her disappointment, it remained a bright glowing effervescent white.

"No color?" She pouted.

"No, your highness," Ru corrected gently, "White is most certainly a color."

With a gentle pat on her shoulder, he read, "White is the color of purity and virtue. Among the ancient ones, virginal brides wore White Kyber crystals in their headdresses to ward off evil energies. Unfortunately despite its worth, white an exceptionally rare color, found only to be produced by those of unquestionable purity. In the days before the Old Republic and the original Sith Empire, and after the ancient ones disappeared— Force Adepts able to produce White Kybers became highly sought after."

"The original Sith Empire?" Kylo inquired.

"The first siths were from a single planet," Apple explained, "Several empires came after them. Remind me to tell you later. Go on, Ru."

Ru glanced at the dark lord for approval before continuing, "The majority of White Kybers were produced by ancient sages within temples. But since antiquity, there have been mention of the White Kybers appearing in the hands of your female Force adepts." He moved his jaw in a well-all-be-a-wookie's-uncle motion.

"If these young females were pure enough to produce White Kyber, then they became targets of other Force users. History states, that they were often kidnapped by Jedi and Sith alike hoping to obtain further power in the Force. These young bearers were also known to be able to initiate the rare technique of Force Enhance and if they were females they produced…" his voice faltered, "some of the most powerful Force offspring."

The men shifted their eyes to her.

Apple picked up the crystal to eyeball it between her index and forefinger. "I wonder if my half-sister would have turned a kyber white as well. It would make sense, considering Kylo is very powerful."

That softened the dark lord's expression.

Ru tugged at his collar and coughed, continuing, "White symbolizes kindness to which even the elements of the universe recognize and respond. Bearers of White Kyber crystals are those who are the most loyal to the ones they love. And often, their presence enhances love in those around them."

"I don't know if that part is accurate," Apple made a face, "I've been around some seriously cranky sith… and there was no way," she made a slicing motion with her hand, "those guys would ever love anything."

"Strictly speaking," Ru pointed to his data pad, "I think it is referring to after producing a White Kyber and having it on hand that evokes an increase in love in other Force users."

"Okay," she placed her crystal in an imperial jeweled setting, "that I can totally accept, because—my word—there are some miserable people out there that can't accept love even if it was a Bantha biting their behinds."

"There's more," Ru said trying to keep from chuckling at her tangent, then asked half-heartedly, "Would you like me to read it?"

"Yes," Lord Ren said quickly, answering for her.

The lieutenant commander looked at him for an awkward second then continued reading out loud, "White was not considered by the ancients as a single color, but a manifestation of the presence of all color energies, or the complete energy of light. Although, it is not to be mistaken for the multiple colors associated with Force Chosen Ones. There have been accounts since antiquity of White Kyber crystal bearers being married to, or being the children of, close friends of, or close companions of Chosen Ones… Some are even born to be inclose proximity to a Chosen One, but the White Kyber bearers, themselves, are not Chosen Ones—whom are much rarer than even White Kyber Crystal bearers. And while White Kyber are created by those of this class, Chosen Ones can manifest with any color of Kybers at any time depending on their mood, even to the point of creating more than seven colors at a given time. While a Chosen One could at one moment produce a green Kyber, the next parsec, the same Chosen One could create a blue, or an Orange, or violet kyber."

Ru paused and glanced up at Kylo, "That's interesting considering the fact that Darth Vader was said to be the Chosen One."

"He was _a_ Chosen One," Apple clarified, "The last one while the Force remains completely balanced. But if one aspect of the Force raises entirely by itself to the crushing of all other aspects, then a new Chosen One will be born."

"That doesn't make sense. The Jedi were looking forward to the Chosen One for centuries," Kylo countered. "The Force was unbalanced for hundreds of years before grandfather was born. And there were no others."

"Not exactly accurate," the princess shook her head, "There was always a balance within the Force at least until the middle of the Galactic Republic. And when the imbalance arose, a Chosen One was born. The original Jedi distorted the records—either losing the archives about the previous Chosen Ones or deleting them to suit their purposes. Unfortunately that ended to their detriment, seeing as the Jedi council around the time father was born knew little of the several Chosen Ones that came and went centuries before."

"So they withheld information even from themselves?" Kylo postulated.

"Everything with them is always from a certain point of view," Apple explained then added, "But as far as the Chosen Ones were concerned. There were a string of them stretching back as far as the Force's existence in sentient beings. But once the Republic was formed with the Jedi council, the majority of sith at that time were eliminated, leaving only Darth Plagieus, Darth Sidius, and later Darth Maul. There were a few others, but not as many in comparison to the Jedi."

The others nodding knowing that aspect of the story from historical records.

"But the Jedi had effectively eliminated many other sects of Force Adepts and thus created an imbalance in the Force which set in place their own destruction."

"So if Luke had achieved the recreation of the Jedi temple and padawans," Kylo paced a few steps, stopping at an imperial flag display, "then another Chosen One would have been born?"

"If there was an accurate imbalance," the princess nodded, "then yes, but he didn't succeed, did he?"

The dark knight stiffened, his fists coiling and uncoiling. "No."

Resolder hooked his thumb in the space between his belt and his hip, "The Jedi were known for avoiding marriage and relationships. Considering their efforts at controlling the reproduction of offspring, they effectively reduced the numbers of Force sensitives births for quite a few generations due to their own strict avoidance of attachments. Coupled with the limited numbers of sith or other sects… It would make sense that the Force could become unbalanced to the point of almost breaking."

"Exactly," Apple nodded in agreement, "Thus father was born."

"Chosen Ones are creatures of the Force and will never be categorized by Kyber crystal colors," Ru read out loud then asked, "Creatures of the Force?"

"In other words," Apple said solemnly, "Compelled to balance the Force, regardless of loyalty or relationship. Just imagine the Force literally taking you over until you are completely constrained to act according to its edicts, regardless of your own feelings. Consider it an almost entire loss of will, that manifests in explosive dragoons of killing."

The men exchanged looks. Even Kylo appeared disturbed by the idea.

"Once Order 66 came to full fruition, Father was compelled by the Force to kill off random sith. After the majority of Jedi were purged, those of the sect that remained were hunted down to the point that every time one of them died, Father was impelled by the Force to cut down a sith colleague. Most Chosen Ones become insane due to the mental stress caused by cleansing the Force. Some legends say that Darth Revan was a Chosen One, but I'm not entirely sure of that fact. Yet, he did go insane swinging back and forth between the jedi and the sith until it split him entirely in two."

She shook her head, as if asking herself why she was even telling them, "In father's case, he had me to soothe him. I was the only one that he felt he could let his guard down with and the only one that didn't spark the Force's vengeance."

"Another reason why he kept you outside of the jedi-sith war," Kylo acknowledged.

She nodded a few times. "He once told me that I was his one anchor. His one peace."

"It makes sense," Ru opened his hand at the data pad, "Chosen Ones were said to value White kyber bearers highly and sought out their company for relief," he paraphrased then read verbatim, "While Chosen Ones were the Force's centurions and arms of justice, White Kyber bearers were the Force's support for the Chosen Ones to ease their burdens. It is said that the Force would bring forth an army of White Kyber bearers to soothe a single Chosen One. If none were born during a Chosen One's lifetime, the Chosen One would seek to create one or travel across galaxies to unknowingly locate one. And the White Kyber bearer in return would experience unease until brought before the Chosen One."

"Father did travel a great many lightyears to find me in the Kathol Rim and I was very uneasy until we were re-united," Apple admitted.

"Offspring of the Chosen One, if any," Ru read on, "will also seek the company of the white bearer, due to the spatial disturbance that ripples outward each generation from the Chosen One into the Force. For example, one family of a single Chosen One may cause great disturbances across an entire galaxy unless at least one White Kyber is brought into their midst. Some Chosen One descendants have been known to destroy worlds due to internal instability. Examples of this are listed in…"

The lieutenant commander looked up with wide eyes, "Apparently the information on that portion of the description has been lost. The ancient transcript that this was taken from had large portions of it missing due to insect damage."

He turned the data pad around to show the image of the weathered parchment manuscript with nibbled holes in the center of it.

Kylo snatched it from him to read further, "Without the presence of White Kybers these descendants can…" he paused, knuckles gripping the data pad turning white of his ungloved hand.

Contempt curled his lips, "be lead to destroy each other… fathers turning on sons, mothers on daughters, aunts upon nieces, and…" A cold pallor filled his face, his eyes darkening to the point of absolute hatred. His hands shook, "Uncles upon nephews."

The metal began cracking under his grip.

"Kylo," Apple said softly, gently touching his hand, "Here, let me have that." She carefully plucked the device from his grip, handing it behind herself back to Ru.

Taking the dark lord's hand, she touched it to the side of her face, leaning her cheek against the back of his knuckles. "It's just an old theory, nothing more."

Hateful eyes staring through her trapped in a painful memory, Lord Ren only said, "Read on, lieutenant commander."

Choking down a lump of uneasiness, Ru continued to tell the excerpt, "White Kyber bearers alleviate these Force rippling affects and internal struggles, but one alone may not be enough, especially if the inner turmoil has spread past one generation to the next."

The officer glanced at the cold and unmoving dark lord for verification before pressing on, "White Kybers are the Force's emissaries of wholeness and mental clarity. Highly intelligent, they are typically those more interested in helping Chosen Ones and other colors to achieve their potentials. These kybers can work well even with black or bleeding reds, to greens and blues. The White Kybers compliment any of the other colors and are sought after constantly because of this fact. They are susceptible to becoming targets of prey, but when one is aligned with a Chosen One or the descendants of a Chosen One then they…"

Kylo flashed a frigid stare at him. "Something wrong lieutenant commander?"

"…then they will in turn become their protectors or… die in the attempt."

With that the Dark Lord closed his eyes and turned his face to the metal floor. "As if I was expecting it to relay something different."

"Wait there's more," Ru said, skimming the rest of it, "if a descendant of a Chosen on is a Pink or a Gray Kyber bearer," he exchanged a look with Lord Ren, "then there is more hope. If this takes place then the White Kyber bearer will seek to attract more colors to them, namely yellow, green, orange, blue, indigo, and violet, for a total of seven colors to surround the white stone. This adds in the alleviation of the internal struggles faced by Chosen One descendants and may increase the Pink or Gray Kyber's ability to balance within the Force."

"There were seven stones in the box," Resolder chimed in, "And we are green, indigo, and pink."

"And yellow," Apple said half-under her breadth. "There were a total of eight. One white for me, and another one yellow that is already with its owner."

"Who?" Kylo asked earnest.  
Apple just nibbled on her bottom lip then shook her head.

"Probably my brother," Ru guessed, "He's the only other Force user we know aboard this ship."

Apple shook her head. "He needs to pick up his soon, but he is not the yellow one."

"Then whom?" Kylo asked more earnestly.

"For a later time," Apple brushed his demand aside then told Ru, "What are the powers associated with the White Kybers."

Ru's eyes skimmed across the text to find the paragraph he was looking for. "…Psychic prowess and protection against the haphazard aspects of the Force. White crystals were never seen among the Jedi or Sith ranks due to their overall balanced nature and attraction to young pure souls," he read out loud as if hurrying through it to get to the next salient point.

"Other colors are highly attracted to White Kybers," he skipped ahead, "etc. etc. many desiring to possess them…. etc. etc. The White Kyber will protect against corruption and more times than not, will purify the other stones."

With a grin, Ru pointed at another paragraph, "Here it is."

He continued reading this time purposefully, "The Force attacks that these crystals are known to ward off are all violations of the mind. They increase Force Bubble and Force Shield, as well as increase in the mental and physical healing of other colors. One characteristic is that the White Kyber will impart in others revelations and the Cleanse Mind technique. Force Enhancement is the number one technique for this color."

He looked up at them. "That is the last of the information."

"Find the rest," Kylo snipped quickly, making away for the door. "I want every conceivable piece of information on the subject available by tomorrow morning."

"Oh, dearest," Apple lagged behind, "I don't think such an investigation is necessary—"

"It is!" He roared, stopping a few feet from alerting the door's sensors to his presence. The intensity emanating from him silenced the others completely.

Kylo held out his hand to her, "Come Apple. We have a prior engagement."

The princess hesitated then weaved through cases to reach out for him. Taking his hand, she allowed the dark knight to steer her towards the door. Pausing on the threshold, she glanced back at the two men seconds before her nephew ushered her through the door.

Her eyes spoke volumes. Ru and Resolder exchanged a determined look moments before the nobleman took his father's old saber, and the lieutenant commander picked up another one.

Too bad, Ru shuddered after touching the weapon, swiftly replacing it with a more palatable one and wiped the touch of the other one off on his uniform to Resolder's amusement.


End file.
